


She's Not There

by stupidsexyarizona



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F, Ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:18:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 60,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2839442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidsexyarizona/pseuds/stupidsexyarizona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life had never been so unforgiving to Callie Torres, and after an accident that impeccably endangers her life, she meets the cheerful and strikingly enigmatic Arizona Robbins, who ultimately helps her recover. But no one aside from Callie seems to know who she is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Callie mashed her foot on the brake pedal only a moment too late. It was a ghastly winter storm – a blizzard of disastrous doom – to which she'd slowly been maneuvering her car through. It was brief.

But she hit the brake a second too late and suddenly could not see or breathe or even feel. She certainly felt the force of her body shooting forward, the flimsy seat belt that Mark had urged her to get replaced had ripped at the seams – the faulty duct tape tearing with the force of her body – the force of the impact.

She felt her head meet the glass of the windshield and suddenly, things were dark.

###

_Two Days Ago_

"Hey. Mind if I sit here?" Lexie Grey asked her, letting herself slide on the bar stool next to Callie.

Callie cleared her throat and said, "No, no. I'm just… overthinking," finishing her statement with a shot of liquor.

Lexie briefly glanced over at her and started to speak.

"…You think he'll tell him?"

"If he's not an idiot," Callie responded.

She sighed and shifted her glance downwards, lost in her own thoughts. Everyone around her seemed so content, so _happy_.

"Are you okay?" Lexie asked her.

"Uh… um, I don't- I'm fine," she murmured, the tone of her voice failing her words.

She got up from the stool and rushed to the bar bathroom, closing the door behind her. She felt the tears come in a rush. It was Valentine's day and she'd been so miserable. And everyone was happy – everyone she knew had something going on. She felt so empty – especially today did she feel the losses of her broken heart and recalled the man who cheated and failed to love her, then becoming a stranger – and the woman who left her in a parking lot, only to never look back. She vanished from her life – they all seemed to vanish. Like momentary happiness, everything had at once dissipated.

She wanted a savior – or something of the kind. Someone to lift her spirits, something to calm her down.

Her career wasn't moving – not much. She'd been too miserable to even consider furthering her interest in cartilage, her personal life had been such a wreck. So she sat in that dirty bar bathroom in Joe's bar and cried her eyes out.

She thought that maybe Lexie would eventually come in to inquire. She thought maybe someone would come in to use the bathroom that she'd been utilizing as an outlet for her tears.

But no one ever came.

###

Callie woke up the next morning with a resignation towards her personal life. She walked out of her room in a haze of melancholy, walking over to the kitchen to make some coffee. In the next room, she heard the silent chatter of Cristina and Owen, perhaps just waking up from slumber. She grimaced – she didn't want to be one of those miserable people that hated being around couples, but she only felt herself more prone to complete dismay over her friends' romances.

She decidedly chose to bury herself in her work, leaving for the hospital to start her day.

At work, her eyes briefly lit up at the prospect of her best friend bringing her coffee – but it wasn't for her. Neither was it for Addie. Mark scampered off towards Lexie with glee, his face falling when she'd rejected his offer.

"What a baby," Callie remarked, watching the scene from afar.

"He's enchanted," Addison told her.

"Uh-huh," Callie murmured, looking down at her chart.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she lied, walking off to allot herself some alone time.

After her rotations and some odd surgeries, she laid in a dim-lit on-call room and stared blankly at the ceiling, not thinking of anything in particular. She felt numb to any sort of emotional sensation – she felt as though her breakdown last night had been refreshing in the sense that she could no longer feel such treacherous heartache.

She simply laid there and stared and stared, immobile and sleepless.

###

"Were you here all night?" she heard behind her.

She briefly turned to look at Mark and then peered down back at her chart.

"Yeah. I worked the ER last night. I'm taking another shift today."

"You look like hell, Torres. What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing. I just feel like working the ER," she responded.

"Liar. You need to sleep. Stop pushing yourself so hard when you have no reason to."

"I have plenty of reason to," Callie scoffed.

"Look, let's just talk about it," Mark reasoned.

"No, no. Forget me and go on with your happy romance with Little Grey. I'll be fine, Mark."

"Callie-"

"I've gotta go," she said, dismissing him and pacing down the hall.

"Callie!"

###

Mark had texted and called, but Callie simply ignored it. She was finished with her shifts in the ER and finally decided to head home after Webber lectured her for the ridiculous amount of hours she'd worked for the week – without any sleep, at that.

It was snowing heavily – a blizzard was making its way into Seattle, the worst in years. Seattle never got terrible weather conditions, and it was rare that snow should fall so heavily on the city. It was prone to about two or three (& very light) snow storms a year, but nothing extravagant. It was a strange day, a strange time. In the middle of February, a terrible blizzard had consumed the city.

And Callie suddenly missed Miami. She stood in the snow, feeling the heavy flakes stick to her jacket and melt in her hair. She was cold. She thought that maybe she should go home and rest, but she was sure that Owen was staying with Cristina that night and she really didn't want to be around anyone at all – not even her notoriously reclusive roommate and her strange, but respectful boyfriend.

So she went across the street and started the engine to her aging car – it took a few tries to get it rolling, but she finally got it to start. She briefly cleaned the snow off the windshields while the car warmed up and sat back inside. She put on the wipers and watched as it meekly attempted to clear the windshield of wet blemishes. It didn't help much.

She struggled with her seat belt, pulling the loose material over her body and into its socket. She had to get them replaced. She had to get a lot of things replaced. She shifted her car and started to drive – her mind blank, her body fatigued, and her destination unknown.

It wasn't long before the blizzard had gotten worse. Callie hadn't even driven that far from the hospital and already, she could not see the road or distinguish it from any other streets – it was a blanket of sheer white. No one had expected this much snow, and the plowers hadn't been sent on this part of the street yet.

But Callie didn't mind it, despite the fact that she should have. She simply drove through it. And before she could realize it, her senses were scattered – the windshield was caked in white, her car went skidding, and she crashed somewhere on a street corner.

Her only hope was that she had not hit anyone in the impact.

###

They operated on her almost immediately. Luckily, someone had caught the scene and phoned the ambulance right away. When rushed to the ER, everyone was mortified to discover that the car crash victim was Callie.

Mark was frantic – everyone was. The OR was packed, with Derek as the lead surgeon. Callie had suffered extensive head trauma, she was at risk for brain injury. Derek worked diligently, careful in his methodology, careful not to screw anything up.

Everyone was praying. Dearly worried, channeling their thoughts to the unconscious Callie Torres. Mark cursed that crappy, godforsaken car of hers.

It took several operations in between two or three days. Derek was assured that she'd be fine to some extent – but there was no telling what her injuries were without having her first wake up.

But she'd be fine.

She'd be fine.

###

When Callie opened her eyes, she found herself staring into two bright blue eyes that were peering straight back down at her. They blinked momentarily, and for a brief moment, Callie felt that they were the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen. She then felt the owner of those same striking eyes graze her forehead. Her fingertips were cool on Callie's hot skin.

"Hi. How are you feeling?" the woman asked her, pulling away from her.

"I feel like shit," Callie groaned, startled by the sound of her own raspy voice. It almost brought her back to her bleak reality.

She tried to sit up, but the woman simply put up a finger – indicating her to stop.

Callie acquiesced and watched as the woman pressed a button on the bedside, and then she felt the upper-side of the bed push upwards. The vision that had been obscured was suddenly no more and now she could see ahead of her. Callie observed the woman – she wore simple navy blue scrubs (so she was an Attending, then) and had wavy golden blonde hair that stopped just at her shoulders. Her eyes were of a bright & remarkable blue, eyes that seemed to send a curious chill down Callie's body. Callie noticed the dimples in the woman's cheeks when she noticed Callie's gaze upon her and responded with a smile.

"You were out for quite some time," the blonde woman told her.

"Was I?" Callie groaned, her head pounding.

She hadn't felt the need to question anything – reality was making its slow course back to her and trying to reflect upon the recent past only seemed to hurt her head.

"I need painkillers, stat."

"I'm not your doctor, but I'll get them for you in a moment," the woman told her.

"I would figure that Shepherd would be my doctor," Callie said.

"I think that he is."

"You _think?_ "

"I guess he is, I don't know."

"Okay…" Callie murmured.

"So, can you tell me what happened?" the woman asked, curiosity in her bright eyes.

"I'm tired, maybe later," she muttered.

The blonde woman just narrowed her eyes, but made no complaint of Callie's decision.

"Can you just get me those painkillers, please?"

###

"Good to see you awake," Derek told her, nodding his head while reviewing her chart. He had the typical group of residents with him – Meredith, Alex, Cristina, Lexie – even George and Izzie (much to her dismay).

"Mmm, you could lose the company, though," she told him.

He nodded and politely turned to them, watching as they hurriedly scuffled out of the room, leaving the two alone.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little better after those pain killers."

"You were already awake?"

"I was."

"Who prescribed your pain killers?"

"That blonde doctor."

Derek watched her with confusion etched on his face. Callie thought it was probably a useless thing to say – but she hadn't remembered to ask the woman's name and it wasn't a big deal, anyway. She was glad for the pain to have subsided, that's all that seemed to matter at the moment.

"The accident wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. We managed to breach the damage before anything got worse. The only thing I was concerned about was brain injury. Do you remember what happened?"

"I do."

"Then-"

"I do, but I'd rather not talk about it right now."

"Callie-"

"It was an accident, that's all. And I'm fine. I don't feel terrible and I remember things just fine."

"Alright. I'll come back to check on you later," Derek told her, as he turned to leave.

"Derek?"

"Hm?" he asked, turning back to look at her.

"Thank you for saving my life."

###

The dreams that Callie had were of snow. Blankets upon blankets of snow, piling down on the still, desolate streets of Seattle. She found herself standing on that road – she saw a wrecked car, caved in – not recognizable for it seemed to be utterly destroyed. A woman was standing beside the crashed car. She walked towards her, the snow crunching under her feet. The woman turned to her and Callie stopped in her tracks – immobile from the blue eyes that seemed to freeze her in place.

And then she awoke from her dream to find that same woman in the midst of switching her IV bag. She blinked slowly, opening her eyes again and studying the other woman's movements.

"I was dreaming of you," she started.

The woman simply looked down at her, as if she had expected her to be awake, as if she were awake the entire time.

"I know," she responded, with a kind of half-smile.

"How do you know?"

"You didn't seem so surprised to see me."

"You're making that up," Callie retorted.

"Maybe I am," she said, finishing the necessary adjustments.

"You're not a nurse. What are you doing?"

"Just making sure you're well taken care of."

"Why?"

"Shh, drink this," the woman told her, offering her a cup of water.

Callie didn't ask anything, she simply took the cup and drank it as the blonde eyed her intently. Then she felt the woman reach out and stroke her cheek, her fingertips lightly grazing against her chin. They were cool, almost frozen.

"What are you doing?" Callie asked.

"Making sure you're alright?" the woman responded.

"You sound like you're not even sure."

"I'm really not, Calliope."

Callie narrowed her eyes at the woman's calling of her name. She'd clearly read her chart – she was taking initiative and manhandling the situation in a strange way…. Was she an intern or a resident pretending to be an attending? What exactly was she doing?

"Who are-" Callie started to say.

"I have to go now," the woman told her, hurrying off before Callie could inquire.

She frowned, but her joy was immediately roused again when she'd noticed her best friend standing at the door.

"Cal! You're awake!"

###

"Is that blonde doctor new? I haven't seen her before."

"Who? A new doctor?" Mark asked, confused. He hadn't heard anything about any new doctors. He knew that the former Head of Pediatrics had died, but the vacant status was quickly replaced with another doctor who was renowned in his field as one of the best surgeons in the country. Mark had met him already. He did not, however, recall a new blonde female doctor.

"Yeah. I didn't ask her name."

"Is she hot?"

Callie thought for a moment – there was no doubt in her mind that the woman was attractive. She was _definitely_ attractive. Callie felt herself watching her whenever she'd been in the room, her eyes were glued. Callie couldn't determine much from the navy scrubs she'd been wearing, but she was definitely beautiful.

"Super hot. She's been coming often and taking care of me."

Mark whistled at her remark.

"Taking numbers while bedridden? Way to go, Torres."

"I think she's an intern or a resident pretending to be an attending or something. Maybe even a nurse."

"How's that?"

"She's been doing such menial work and I'm not even her patient."

"She _definitely_ wants to get into your panties."

###

Callie thought she'd try to sleep – the door to her hospital room was finally shut so she could allow herself some sleep. She briefly closed her eyes and lost herself in her thoughts – what had she been thinking, driving off in the middle of a snow storm? She shouldn't have gone to such extremes to get away. She shouldn't have worked herself so hard.

"Aaargh!" she exclaimed.

"Calm down," she heard.

Her eyes shot open and she sat up and looked towards the window where the woman had been sitting and watching her. She'd brought a tray of food that sat there next to a bundle of lilies.

"I-I didn't hear you come in," she muttered, but the woman only laughed.

"I brought you some food. You haven't eaten all day."

Callie narrowed her eyes as the woman sat up to bring her the tray.

"Are you going to tell me who you are, or are you going to keep pretending that you're my caretaker?" she asked.

She pulled the hospital bed table over to Callie and placed the food tray on top of it.

"Eat."

Callie noticed that the woman was wearing a lab coat this time – _Perfect_ , she thought, and pushed the hospital bed table away, pulling on the woman's lab coat instead. She pulled her close enough so that she could read the name on the coat.

"Arizona? Your name is Arizona?" she asked.

"Yes, my name is Arizona."

"That's a weird name."

Arizona pulled her coat from Callie's grip and moved back to the widow side, fixing the lilies in the vase, dismissing any further conversation about her name.

"Sorry."

"That's alright."

"Did you bring those for me?" Callie asked her.

"I did. It's bright and white like the snow, don't you think?"

"It is."

"It's been a long time since it's snowed like this," Arizona told her, staring out at the snow falling through the window. The storm had since subsided and the streets were mostly clear. All that was left were some light snow flurries spread throughout the weeks.

"I don't even remember the last time."

"Of course you wouldn't. It was years ago."

"Then you wouldn't, either."

Arizona only smiled at her remark, and turned around – watching her from the window.

"So why are you taking care of me if you're not even supposed to be in this department?" Callie asked.

"I was curious."

"About?"

"About you."

"Okay…" Callie murmured, thrown off by her suggestiveness. Was she flirting? She didn't seem to be – she actually seemed genuinely curious.

"My case is not that strange, you know," Callie continued.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Arizona watched her with an air of calm, her wide eyes curious and engaged. Callie thought it wouldn't hurt – why would it? This woman was only being kind to her, so why not share her history?

"I've just… been miserable. It's hard picking yourself up after a failed marriage where your husband cheats on you and a relationship where you're not good enough. I am not going anywhere, especially now. I'm stuck as a resident, I've just struck a lot of failures. It all mounted up. Somewhere, I started sinking. And then I lost myself in that and decided to go drive into a blizzard with a half-dead car which almost led to me being fully dead," Callie explained.

"So it sucks," she laughed.

"Sounds like it," Arizona said, plainly.

"Uh-huh. But it must be great having your status. I'm almost flattered being taken care of by the head of a department. You must have worked hard."

"I wouldn't say so."

"But it's true. Yet no one seems to know you?"

Arizona didn't say anything, but simply watched her.

"No one knows me," she said.

"You don't know Karev?" Callie mused.

"The angry guy?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"He's a bit punkish, sure. But I can see the promise in him."

"It says that you're the Head of Paeds," Callie guessed that the new guy had already been replaced with her, "so how do you not know your residents?"

"I don't really know anyone here."

"Did you just transfer?"

"No."

"I just don't get why you're hanging around here all the time."

"That's because you're the only one that knows I'm here."

"Then introduce yourself to other people, Arizona."

"I can't really do that."

"And why is that?" Callie groaned.

"Well, because I'm dead."

 


	2. Chapter 2

There was only silence in the room as Callie watched Arizona who, in turn, only watched her back. She was struck simultaneously with silence and a kind of bewilderment – even moreso due to Arizona's calm demeanor. The blonde retained an air of solemnity, and her features only seemed to suggest that she was entirely serious. She did not crack a smile or fall into a fit of laughter, as Callie thought people often did after such vulgar jokes. No, her silence suggested total seriousness in her statement. Callie scoffed.

"You're an idiot," she declared.

At that, Arizona raised her eyebrows in something like amusement or confusion, Callie couldn't quite tell, and felt as though she could not read her expression. Arizona said nothing, but only watched her silently.

"What a terrible joke," Callie spat.

"Not to mention totally inappropriate."

Arizona only stood at the window, watching her from a comfortable distance, while leaning back on the ledge. Her blonde hair and blue eyes seemed to illuminate in the dim light of the hospital room. She stood silently next to the white lilies, then crossing her arms, waiting for Callie to continue. She looked so alive.

"I just opened up to you and then you decide to make a joke like that?" Callie spat, fumbling with the hospital sheets, as if she were going to toss them at her.

She was infuriatingly exhausted, and the woman's joking only spurred on her anger. She'd been sitting in a hospital bed for days, recovering slowly – feeling dreadfully lonely and reflecting on what brought her there in the first place. And now she'd finally been able to express her thoughts honestly, she'd finally been ready to lay her insecurities out in the open, yet this woman seemed to stomp on them – to make fun of them. She felt mocked.

"I wasn't joking," Arizona replied.

"I almost _died_ ," Callie told her.

"Well, you're not dead," Arizona retorted.

Callie narrowed her eyes as Arizona stood up and walked over to her.

"But you are?"

"I am."

God, she couldn't take this nonsense.

"Get out. And don't come back."

"Calliope."

"It's Callie, _Callie._ Now get the hell out!"

Arizona watched her for a moment. She nodded her head, turned around, and left through the door, shutting it softly behind her.

 _A dead woman leaving through the door_ , Callie thought.

How stupid.

###

"Feeling better?" Mark asked her.

"Much," she replied.

He grinned at her – then walking over to the window ledge to grab a chair. He briefly looked outside, then to the table against the window, examining the lilies in the vase.

"So the snow flurries are finally letting up. The snow's been melting away thanks to the sun. The temperature's been going up. It's lovely," he said, bringing the chair over to her bedside. He turned it backwards and sat on it, putting his legs on either side of the chair and folding his arms against the back, using it as an armrest.

"Uh-huh.." Callie murmured.

"Who brought the flowers?" he asked, grinning.

"Blondie did," she told him.

"Thought so. She's going hard. Get in your pants yet?" he coaxed.

Callie rolled her eyes at him and sighed.

"Blonde told me she was dead so I told her to get out."

"Say what?"

"She joked that she was dead."

"That's a weird joke."

"It's a _stupid_ joke," Callie spat.

"Maybe her sense of humor just sucks," Mark suggested.

"She's an idiot. I almost died."

"She _did_ bring you flowers."

"Come on, Mark. You haven't met her. That's not something you say to someone you've just met."

"True. Maybe she's just bad at getting to know someone."

"Stop trying to defend her."

"I'm not, I'm not. It's a good thing, you know… maybe she's interested in you and maybe it's a misunderstand-"

"Shut up. I'm not some lonely old maid that needs to get laid. Stop treating me like that."

"That's not what I meant, Cal. I'm sorry, you're right."

Callie sighed and leaned back on her bed, folding her arms behind her head.

"When the hell can I go back to operating?"

"After you get discharged. It'll be soon."

"Yeah… I guess."

Callie silently stared up at the ceiling while Mark watched her. She looked fine, she seemed to be recovering nicely and it wouldn't be too soon before she'd be back to normal, he thought.

"She doesn't have friends here," Callie suddenly started to say.

"Blondie?"

"Yeah. She said no one knows that she's here. Maybe she's just bad at making friends, like you said."

"Probably. Like I was saying, maybe it's just a misunderstanding."

"Maybe," Callie thought. But she had seemed so friendly, so kind to Callie during her recovery – making sure that she was alright. She'd been attentive to all of Callie's needs… but she had looked so serious when making that vulgar joke. Something about it had struck Callie as odd.

"Her name is Arizona," she told him.

"That's a weird name."

"It is, isn't it?"

###

 _She really didn't come back_ , Callie thought. She ran her fingers through her hair. She had slept uncomfortably, for Arizona seemed to have taken over her thoughts. She wondered what had been going through her head when she'd told her that. Callie hadn't shared much information about her to Mark. Instead, she asked him about Lexie and watched as his face lit up, ecstatic to share all of the details about their relationship. She couldn't bother her friend with meaningless jabber about a woman she barely even knew.

Callie threw the hospital sheets off of her and forced herself to get up. She'd probably have to go to physical therapy after such an accident, but she felt well enough to get up on her own. She put her two feet on the floor and got off the bed slowly, reaching out her hands to maintain balance. She slowly walked her way to the bathroom, smiling to herself. Recovery would go smoothly, she wouldn't have to be in physical therapy that long, after all.

She couldn't wait to be discharged. She wouldn't be a patient anymore. She'd be walking the halls as a doctor. She'd be badass again. Badass Callie Torres.

###

Callie had felt lonely. Better in regards to her physical state, but she'd felt lonely and she wasn't sure why. She thought it must have been Arizona – the way she came in like a sudden ray of sunshine, then simply leaving. She was a breath of fresh air in Callie's increasingly dismal life.

Callie watched as Mark dumped the withered lilies into the trash can.

"Hey!" Callie protested.

"What? They were dying."

He picked up the sunflowers Lexie had bought for her earlier and fixed them in the vase. Callie simply sighed and shifted her gaze to the doorway. Her eyes opened in surprise as she saw Arizona standing there, watching her.

"So blondie never came back? Thought she'd bring you more flowers."

Arizona said nothing, but simply walked over to the window, watching as Mark neatly arranged the new, fresh set of flowers in the vase.

"She's here right now, you goof."

"Huh?" Mark mumbled, shifting his gaze to the doorway.

Callie's eyes widened – he looked right through Arizona as if she were not there, directing his attention to the open, vacant doorway.

"Where is she?"

"Uh."

Arizona watched in amusement as Mark looked at the doorway, turning his head to see if someone was standing by the edge of the door or in the hallway. But he saw no one. Arizona continued to watch Mark, then, she turned her gaze to Callie.

"You see? He can't see me," she told her.

Callie narrowed her eyes at the blonde.

"You're not funny, Mark."

"Huh?" he asked, looking back at Callie.

"Neither are you, Arizona," she scoffed, now directing her attention to the blonde who only watched her with a kind of sadness etched in her eyes.

Mark raised an eyebrow and looked at the vacant spot next to him, to where Callie was directing her attention.

"I really don't like this joke," Callie groaned.

"What are you-"

"Get out, Mark."

"But, Cal-"

"Just get out."

He watched her confusedly – her gaze was still lingering on the empty space next to him. He shrugged his shoulders, maybe she was upset with him for the lilies. Maybe he'd been too nonchalant with everything, trying to lighten her mood.

"Okay…" he murmured,

Arizona moved over to the window ledge and crossed her arms, watching Callie in silence again as Mark started to leave.

"You too, Arizona."

Mark briefly turned to look at Callie, only to find her staring at the window ledge, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular. He scratched the back of his head and left her there.

"He didn't see me," Arizona said, breaking the silence.

"Leave," Callie demanded.

Arizona sighed and exited through the doorway.

"By the way, dead people don't use the door!" Callie called out to her departing form.

###

"So, the big day is almost here. How are you feeling, Callie?"

"I feel just fine. Amazing, actually. I feel amazing. So discharge me already!" Callie growled.

Derek watched as she tangled her feet in the sheets – clearly, she couldn't keep still. She was eager to just get going.

"Soon," he laughed.

"How soon is soon?" Callie asked him.

"Very soon, believe me," he told her.

"By the way, I've set you up with a physical therapist for two weeks. He'll determine the rest but it's important that you attend so that you'll be cleared for surgery."

"I have to wait two weeks!?" Callie groaned.

"It's a slow process, Callie."

Callie sighed again, she felt as though she'd been doing that much too often. She watched as Derek scribbled some notes on his chart, probably regarding the physical therapist. At least she wouldn't be confined to the hospital bed for much longer, she thought briefly. Her attention was suddenly caught by the whisk of blonde hair at the doorway. Arizona walked over to her usual spot, while Callie eyed her intently.

"Back again? I thought I'd told you to leave."

"What?" Derek asked, looking up at her from his chart. He followed her gaze to the window behind him – but he hadn't seen anyone. He looked back at her.

She looked up at him.

"Tell her to leave."

"Tell who to leave?" Derek asked.

"Ugh," Callie groaned.

"Callie?"

"So you're in this too, huh?" she asked.

"What?"

"She's right _there_ ," Callie said, pointing at Arizona.

Derek turned his gaze, once again, to the window ledge behind him.

"Um, Callie…" he started to say.

Callie narrowed her eyes at Derek, almost baffled by his disregard to Arizona's presence. She was convinced that Derek was in this, as well.

"Real mature, Derek."

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. When you're done, shut the door behind you."

"Uh. Alright."

Callie laid back on the bed, watching Arizona again, then closing her eyes, determined to ignore the persistent woman. She couldn't believe that Derek would be in on Mark's joke, as well. Was it all just a plot to hook the two up? She covered her head with the hospital sheets.

"Callie," she heard.

"Just get out, Arizona."

She heard the door shut, then peeked her head out. But Arizona was still there. Apparently, Derek had left just then. She cursed under her breath. Arizona opened her mouth to say something.

"Shut up," Callie said.

The blonde said nothing but turned to leave, and this time she left the door wide open.

"Ugh."

###

Callie awoke to a number of hushed voices outside of her doorway. She briefly determined that they were, in fact, Derek's and Mark's voices. Now she'd catch them in the act. She listened intently to their conversation.

"I think there's something wrong with her," she heard Mark say.

"She's seeing someone, but there isn't anyone there," he continued.

Callie opened her mouth to say something, but was cut-off by Derek's response to Mark.

"I know, I heard her, too."

"She's totally serious about it," Mark continued.

"Are you sure?"

"Should we get a scan?" he asked.

"Maybe we should."

"Maybe we should consider psych," Derek started to say.

Callie's eyes widened. No, _no_ , they _weren't_ joking, after all.

"No, _no._ We just need a scan first."

"There was nothing wrong, her head injuries weren't severe."

"Do it anyway," she heard him say.

She quickly covered her head with the hospital sheets, feigning sleep. She heard them scuffle into the room and pretended as though she was roused by the noise of them entering the room.

"Hey, how are you feeling, Callie?" Derek asked her.

Mark only watched her from behind him.

"Good. A little sleepy. This bed is so uncomfortable," Callie told them.

"Cal, we're going to take you for a sca-" Mark started to say.

"I can't believe you two fell for that joke!"

"Huh?"

They both watched as she feigned laughter, pointing at them accusingly.

"That was priceless. Since Mark thought I've been such a debbie downer lately, I thought maybe I'd play a little joke, so I made up a blonde doctor named Arizona. Bet you thought I was going crazy, huh?" Callie laughed.

Derek was speechless, but Mark only grinned at her.

"That was a pretty dumb joke, Cal," he laughed.

"We were actually worried," Derek said.

"Well, no need to be. It's your fault for thinking that I'm some lonely old maid, Mark."

"Sorry, Cal."

"Er… anyway," Derek cut in.

"Let's get those papers filled out so that we can get you started on physical therapy."

"Sounds great!" Callie exclaimed.

###

Callie watched Arizona, who again, only watched her from the window. They stared silently at each other, Callie overwhelmed with uncertainty.

"Come here," she told her.

Arizona obeyed and walked up to Callie, seating herself on the chair beside her bed. Callie reached out and touched her cheek, running her fingertips down to her jaw. She felt unbelievably smooth and soft against Callie's touch.

"I can feel you."

"You can," Arizona told her.

"You're dead."

"I'm dead," Arizona agreed.

"So why can I feel you?" Callie asked her, sitting up and putting her hands on either side of Arizona's cheeks. She looked into her bright blue eyes and watched as Arizona blinked. She moved her hands down to her neck and felt her pulse. She brought her hand under her nose and felt her breathing.

" _Why_ can I feel you?" Callie asked her.

"I don't know," Arizona answered.

Suddenly, Callie pulled back.

"You're not there…" she started to say.

Arizona moved closer to her, as if wanting her to acknowledge her. For so long, Callie had been rejecting her – rejecting the prospect of her – though Callie had tried to convince Mark and Derek that she was there, she wasn't. And now that Callie had finally realized that Arizona was, in fact, not there, she started to back away.

"Callie," she said.

"You're not there!" Callie exclaimed.

"But you see me, you _see_ me."

"Because I'm crazy and no one else sees you! But you're not there."

"You see me, Callie."

"No, no.." Callie murmured, pushing Arizona's hands away, as she reached out to her. She looked at the blonde woman – she almost seemed desperate, desperate for Callie's acknowledgement. There was desperation and hurt in her bright blue eyes.

"Prove to me that you're real," Callie said.

Arizona only watched her.

"Prove it to me!"

Arizona leaned over her and reached down, swiftly moving her hands to grab her cheeks. Callie felt blonde hair tickle her face as Arizona lightly pressed her lips against hers. It was soft – her lips were so soft against Callie's and Callie instinctively pulled her in tighter, kissing her again. She let go of her as Arizona started to pull away, her hands still on either side of Callie's face.

"…Is that real enough for you?" she whispered.

Callie's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the blue eyes that were observing her own with such intensity.

"I-I think so…" Callie whispered back, almost pulling her in for another kiss.

Arizona pulled away from Callie and sat back down on the chair as Callie sat up on the bed again. She pushed her hair back and looked at Arizona – just taking her in. She was definitely there. She had felt her. She wasn't alive, she was dead. But there she was, breathing, blinking, watching – kissing her.

She was in her dreams too. Most recently – though Callie could not recall any of them aside from the dream she had about the crash.

The crash.

"Oh god," Callie gasped.

"What?" Arizona asked, as Callie looked at her with bewilderment.

"Oh god. Oh god, did I kill you? I was dreaming of you standing next to the car and now you're haunting me, oh god."

Arizona was baffled, she had not expected that response from Callie.

"Callie-"

"Now you're haunting me cause I ran you over, oh god, I killed you, didn't I?" Callie cried. Tears began to stream down her face as guilt overwhelmed her.

Oh god, she had killed the beautiful woman that sat next to her.

"Callie!"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Callie cried, covering her face with her hands.

Arizona sat on the bed and reached out, pulling Callie's hands from her face.

"Callie, Callie."

Callie shook her head, struggling to keep her hands steady.

"Callie, look at me."

Callie hesitated for a moment, though her incessant sobs had faltered by the woman's voice. She pulled her hands away and watched Arizona as she took her hands and held them in her own.

"I've been dead for a long time, Callie. You didn't kill me," she said, softly.

"Really?" she croaked.

"Really."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay…" Callie murmured, hesitantly.

Arizona smiled at her and Callie couldn't help but smile back, nodding her head gratefully as Arizona handed her a cup of water. Callie drank it and watched Arizona, who got up from the bed and sat down on the chair again.

"How did you die?"

"I just died, that's all."

"When?"

"A long time ago."

"Okay…"

They sat in silence – comfortable silence for once, as Callie absorbed the reality of her situation. Arizona was dead. She was dead. But Callie had not killed her. Yet after her accident, she had suddenly started to see the dead woman. However, Callie had not sustained any brain injury. So why was she seeing her now?

She looked up at Arizona, who was now leafing through a magazine that was sitting on the hospital table. She watched as the woman scrunched her face in confusion. She laughed under her breath, watching Arizona flip through the pages in, what seemed to her, disbelief.

"What's so shocking?"

"Huh?"

"The magazine."

"Oh, I don't really get it," Arizona told her, dismissing it.

She shut the magazine and tossed it back on the hospital table. Then she folded her hands on her lap and smiled at Callie – a wide, dimpled smile.

"So why did you come back?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did you come back when I told you not to?"

"Because I felt your loneliness."

"You can read my mind?"

"No. I can't read your mind or anyone else's. But I can sense what people are feeling. Most of all, I can sense what you're feeling. Because you see me. And I can touch you. I can't touch anyone else, but I can touch _you_. And even when you don't want me near you, I can have a sense of what you're feeling. After you told me to go, I felt your loneliness after a while. And I came back. And your friend happened to be there."

"Oh…"

"S-so you knew I was lonely, then?" Callie asked, meekly.

"I felt it, yeah."

"O-oh."

"Was it because of me?" the blonde asked.

"Huh?"

"Were you lonely because I left?" Arizona asked.

"I was. I think I was."

Arizona smiled at her and stood up.

"Are you leaving?" Callie asked her.

"There's nowhere to go. I'll be back. I think you need the sleep."

"You'll come back?"

"I'll come back."

"When?"

"When you're awake."

"But-"

"I'll know when you're awake, Callie. Have a good rest," she told her.

Callie nodded and watched as Arizona again, departed through the door, shutting it gently behind her. She leaned back and closed her eyes – absorbing what had just happened.

_So… she's a ghost._

Callie laughed. It all seemed so ridiculous. She'd been kissed by a ghost.

 _But why did she exit through the door?_ Callie thought briefly, but it was a passing thought as she fell into what had finally been a deep, and much needed, sleep.

 


	3. Chapter 3

"So can you float?" Callie asked, effortlessly pushing herself up on the hospital bed as she saw that now familiar whisk of blonde hair glide across the room.

She had brought more lilies. And she had been carefully fixing them in the vase when countered with Callie's sudden inquiry. She turned around and blinked at her.

"Huh?"

"I mean, you're dead, right? So you can float," Callie explained, as though it had always been common knowledge, "Because ghosts float… right?"

Arizona blinked again and briefly thought about it before turning her attention again, to the vase. She fixed it so that it was aligned carefully with the ray of sunlight that beamed down through the window. She turned to Callie then, and walked over to her, crossing her arms in an almost inquiring pose. But it was different from another inquiry, for she seemed hesitant.

"I can float, yeah," she finally answered.

"Can I see?" Callie asked excitedly, still caught up in her own fascination with the dead woman. She'd been captivated before, simply because Arizona had initially presented herself as such an enigma, but now that Callie had discovered that Arizona was actually _dead_ , she had wrapped her head around all the ridiculous things to be thought of when encountering the notion of a ghostly apparition. Certainly, they harbored distinctive qualities. Ghostly qualities. Like floating.

"Not now," Arizona refused.

"Why not?" Callie asked, disappointment apparent in her tone. She almost pouted.

"Because I don't want to freak you out," she replied, plainly.

To this, Callie laughed and said, "I don't think anything will freak me out at this point."

"Why? Because I'm dead?"

"That's right. Because you're dead."

Arizona only smiled, as if it were a joke – as though Callie had just been teasing, and then gently rested her hands on either of Callie's shoulders, slowly pushing her back onto the bed.

"I don't need the rest," Callie protested.

The hasty exchange to which Arizona was dead was now a common exchange between the two. At Arizona's refusal to answer Callie's questions, Callie would retort with a smug remark, implying that nothing about the dead woman could shock her, to which the blonde would only ask something like, _Is it because I'm dead?_ to which Callie would then promptly reply in something that suggested _Yes_.

It was silly and unusual banter and they were strikingly aware that they both were avoiding questions and answers. The whole matter in itself was bizarre. Yet still, Callie did not want to know _why_ she was seeing Arizona. She didn't want to know why it was only her that saw the blonde apparition. She didn't feel as though she were crazy, nor did she feel her head injured in any which way.

It was probably because Arizona's presence was amazingly refreshing.

"No," Arizona said, "You need the rest."

"I don't. I'm going to physical therapy in 10 minutes and it's my first session. I should energize before going," Callie explained.

"I think you should save the energy before exerting yourself."

"I feel fine," Callie groaned.

"McDreamy will be here soon and you don't want him seeing you stare into space again."

"I don't do it often."

"I see you watching me. I feel when your eyes are on me," Arizona retorted.

"Well, why wouldn't you? Is that another ghostly quality? Do you know when I'm thinking about you?"

Arizona laughed. "Do you think about me often?" she inquired.

Callie grinned and replied, "I guess you don't know when I'm thinking about you, then."

"You didn't answer my question!" Arizona laughed.

Callie only laughed and tugged at Arizona's sleeve so that she would sit next to her on the chair beside her bed. Arizona acquiesced and sat down without a second thought, it seemed to Callie.

"Stay for a while, then."

"So you're not going to answer my question."

"I think about you. A lot. Isn't it obvious? You're dead."

At once, Arizona's expression fell. Callie noticed almost immediately the changes in her face – the altering of the glow in her eyes, almost gleaming before she quickly blinked and retained a certain calm that overcame not only her eyes, but her entire demeanor. Yet, she still seemed troubled. It was quick, but to Callie, that moment seemed distinctly different.

"Okay," Arizona murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What? Tell me," Callie coaxed.

"Well… I don't know, is that your only fascination about me?" Arizona murmured, almost hesitant. Her blue eyes seemed to glow in that moment – showing something like vulnerability, Callie thought now.

"Well," Callie started.

 _Well, that and you're pretty,_ she thought. But she was reluctant to let the words out of her mouth.

"I guess so."

At this, Arizona's shoulders seemed to slump in something resembling defeat. Callie's eyes widened at once. Though this woman was dead, though she was a ghost – she carried amazingly human qualities. She was sensitive. It was almost as if Callie had remarked that she'd liked her only for her looks and not her personality.

"You're interesting, too," Callie said, quickly.

"Huh?" Arizona blinked.

"I mean, you're interesting, too. Obviously. I wouldn't be- uh, well, you're interesting too, okay? Don't feel bad. I mean if you weren't dead-" Callie ranted confusedly, conscious of her prior words.

Arizona smiled, aware of Callie's attempt to reconcile, though she hadn't been upset at all.

"Okay. I get it."

Callie words faltered in her mouth – she only looked at the woman who smiled brightly back at her, and she heaved a heavy sigh.

"All right."

"So are you gonna sleep?" Arizona asked, changing the subject.

"No. How do you know about McDreamy?" Callie asked.

"Well, he is your doctor," Arizona answered.

"No, I mean… you knew his nickname. How do you know that?" Callie questioned, recalling that his nickname was no longer thrown around now that he had been in a relationship with Meredith. That nickname had aged.

"Well, I roam the halls, too. I know people and their names, sort of."

"You sound like an aimless apparition."

"I kind of am," Arizona replied, quietly. Her blue eyes were clouded once again – the troubled expression evident.

Callie suddenly felt the need to reach out to her and pull her closer. She was really the only one that could see her, she thought. How lonely that must be.

Callie reached an arm out, and wrapped her finger around a loose strand of blonde hair, gently running her fingertips over her cheek. She couldn't get over how alive this woman was. How could she be dead?

"I-" Callie started to say, but quickly pulled her hand away when she heard the door to her hospital room open up. She quickly averted her case to Derek, who now walked in, a nurse following quickly behind with a wheelchair.

"Callie. How are you feeling?"

"Great!" she exclaimed, quickly looking at Arizona, who only smiled and stood up.

"Ready?" Derek asked, gesturing to the wheelchair.

"Of course," she murmured, watching as Arizona slipped behind them and outside of the door.

But of course she wouldn't follow them, Callie thought, as Derek helped her into the chair.

###

Callie was breathing heavily. The physical strain on her body had felt good – her adrenaline was pumping and she thought that she could do much more than what her therapist had suggested. She felt as though she wasn't being pushed hard enough.

Her therapist insisted that she should be taken back to her room in order to properly rest herself – strain on her body would do no good amidst the long process of recovery. But it wasn't a "long" process, though he had insisted that it was. Because Callie felt great. She felt ecstatic. Even Derek was surprised about how quickly she'd recovered after the accident.

Though she had never been in a bad accident before, Callie also thought that it was peculiar – the way her body had recovered so quickly. She slept a lot, she knew that. And every time she opened her eyes, she would find Arizona standing there, absently staring outside of the window or at some blank space on the wall. She'd sense immediately that Callie was awake, yet her gaze would only slowly drift back to Callie and that wide, heart rendering smile would reach her lips just as slowly, and again, Callie would feel her body revitalized and awake almost immediately.

She huffed and sat down for a break. She wanted to get _out_ of the hospital already. She missed her apartment and her room and her comfortable bed.

"You're not supposed to be here," she heard.

Startled by that harmonious voice, she looked up and saw Arizona standing in front of the closed door.

"I didn't hear you come in," Callie huffed.

Arizona smiled.

"Well, I didn't exactly use the door."

"You scared the shit out of me."

"Well, you aren't supposed to be here. You're supposed to be resting," Arizona lectured.

Callie had sneaked into the physical therapy room once the lights had gone out. She knew her way around the hospital quite well and had been careful to avoid any wandering nurses. She knew what hour to sneak out of her room, as she'd been attentive to the time of their habitual visits and routine checks.

"I need to get better."

"You'll get better. You are better. Don't do this on the first day, Callie. It'd be fine to exert yourself maybe after a few sessions but-" Arizona started to lecture again.

"Why didn't you come?" Callie asked loudly, cutting her off.

"Huh?" Arizona asked.

"You just left. You didn't stay," Callie said, confused by the tone of her own voice. Why did she even want her to come?

"What do you mean?" Arizona asked, walking over to Callie, who still remained seated. She crouched down to her, as Callie had only kept her gaze on the floor. Arizona gently lifted her chin upwards to look at her.

"You just left when Derek came in. And you didn't come at all earlier during my session," Callie softly complained, watching as Arizona only blinked back at her – watching as her blue bright eyes softened.

"Do you," Callie continued, "do you not like being around the others? Everyone else who can't see you?" she asked.

Arizona smiled softly and said, "Well, no. I'd only be distracting you. I don't want to make you look crazy by watching me when to others, there's no one there at all."

"It's like you said before, Callie," Arizona continued, "I'm not there."

"But you're there to me. I see you," Callie retorted, as Arizona let go of her chin and stood on her feet once again.

"I know. But no one else does. How would we even communicate?" Arizona asked.

"We wouldn't have to…" Callie started to say.

"Callie?"

"You could just… just…" Callie murmured, her vision suddenly blurring.

"Callie!" Arizona exclaimed.

"You could just watch me…" she mumbled, before her vision went dark. Before she shut her eyes, though, she could feel soft arms wrapping around her, breaking her impending fall. She smelled something sweet – something like lilies. Refreshing to her lungs.

So refreshing, she thought.

###

The only feeling Callie was aware of before opening her eyes were the soft fingers trailing through her hair. When the tips of those fingers would touch her scalp, she felt the cool lingering sensation of them. She opened her eyes and looked to the side of her, watching as Arizona watched her with quiet eyes. She was leaning over on the bed, her face on Callie's pillow – one arm supporting the weight of her head, her mouth muffled by it. She could only see Arizona's eyes, and her outstretched arm as she reached her hand to Callie's hair.

Arizona lifted her head as Callie spoke. "Your fingertips are always cold."

"Yeah," Arizona said, nodding her head as she pulled her hand away. Callie reached her own hand out and grabbed Arizona's retreating one, running her thumb over her fingertips.

"Freezing, almost," Callie said.

"Uh-huh," Arizona murmured.

"That's not a human quality. Your whole body seems warm but your fingertips are freezing," Callie continued.

"Are you alright, Callie?" Arizona inquired, dismissing Callie's curious observation of her frozen fingertips.

"I pushed myself too hard, didn't I?" Callie asked.

"That's right, you fainted," Arizona explained, pulling her hand from Callie's grasp.

"I feel fine now, though," she murmured, "but now they're going to lecture me for fainting and-"

"No one knows," Arizona said.

"What?"

"No one knows," she repeated, "you'll be fine. Just don't do that next time."

"You brought me back here?" Callie asked.

"I did."

"How did you do that?" Callie inquired, imagining herself floating through the air in Arizona's arms. It was a silly thought.

"I put you in the wheelchair and I rolled you back to your room."

"Oh," Callie said, almost disappointed. "And no one noticed?"

"I made sure not to pass anyone. I can sense people from a distance."

"So if someone were to run into us as you were doing that, what would they see?" Callie inquired.

Arizona briefly thought about it and said, "They'd see a knocked out Calliope Torres being magically pushed in a wheelchair."

"So they would freak out," Callie responded.

"Yep."

"That's kind of hilarious," Callie said.

"The thought of it is indeed super hilarious," Arizona grinned.

Callie felt a little tired, but she pleased with how better she felt now that she was safely back in her room. Maybe she should just take it slow.

"You called me 'Calliope' again," she said.

"Sorry," Arizona apologized, "but you seem happy?"

"Huh?" Callie asked.

"You seem happy. I sense it coming from you."

"I am," Callie confessed, "I'm glad. I'm glad that you're here."

Arizona smiled softly at her and Callie suddenly felt the urge to hug her, to have this wonderful woman in her arms. She tugged on her sleeve and pulled her closer. Arizona fell into her arms and sank into the embrace as Callie wrapped her arms around her back. She felt blonde strands of hair tickle her face and inhaled Arizona's scent. She felt enveloped by the blonde.

"Thank you," Callie whispered into her ear.

She felt Arizona smile against her cheek as she wrapped her arms delicately around Callie's neck.

"I'll stay next time? If you want," Arizona said softly, the words murmured against Callie's cheek.

"What?"

"I won't leave unless you want me to. If I'm making you uncomfortable. But I'll come to your next session, you know, if you want?"

"I'd like that."

###

"Can't you leave the hospital?" Callie questioned, disrupting the quiet of the room. She'd been drifting in and out of sleep, simply basking in the comforting silence with Arizona, who had been sitting next to her since she'd fallen asleep with her arms wrapped around her.

When Callie awoke, she found Arizona thumbing through an old medical journal. Arizona closed the journal and put it on the hospital table. She seemed reluctant to speak, but seemed to have quickly changed her mind.

"I have… maybe once or twice… but I'm always drawn back. I can't go very far. I'm always pulled back," she confessed, thoughtful of the words she let slip.

"Pulled back?" Callie asked.

"I don't know, I just can't stand to leave this hospital. Something just makes me come back here."

"Do you see dead patients?"

"Dead patients?" Arizona asked.

"Lots of people have died here, don't you see them?" Callie asked her.

"I don't. I don't see them once they've died."

"Do patients ever see you?"

"No one has ever seen me aside from you, Calliope," Arizona said, eyeing her intently.

"Why me?" Callie asked.

Arizona hesitated. Callie could see the hesitation in her eyes, she looked away and murmured, "I don't know."

"Why me, Arizona?"

"I don't know, Callie."

"You're lying."

Arizona sighed and only looked at her, waiting for her to say something more. Callie felt herself frozen – as though Arizona had been waiting for her to interrogate her once again. She almost felt bad, the way she treated her. As if she deserved to know everything.

But wasn't it natural to want to know more about her?

"Would you…" Callie started to say, "would you still be drawn to me if I couldn't see you?" Callie asked. She felt as though it were a silly question. She was sure Arizona had been interested in others – no matter how long she'd been dead, it was a natural thing to be drawn to people, to interacting with people, so of course it was a silly question.

"I don't know," Arizona answered, honestly.

She watched as Callie's shoulders slumped and quickly retorted with a question of her own, "Would you still be drawn to me if I weren't dead?" Arizona asked.

Callie opened her mouth to say _Of course_ but the words seemed to catch in her throat as she looked at Arizona's bright, perusing eyes.

"I don't know," Callie said.

If it had been another time, certainly. Maybe under different circumstances.

"These are the circumstances now," Callie said, "so what does it matter?"

Arizona took in her words and her expression seemed to soften.

"You're right."

"We're here now," Callie continued.

"So who cares about the 'what ifs'?" Arizona inquired, interrupting her.

"Exactly."

###

Callie had been in for her next session. She'd been more pumped this time and she was sure that she no longer had the need to attend them, but it was required in order to be released. Her physical therapist remarked that she had shown wonderful progress and may need a few sessions here and there. But she'd be discharged and released in due time, and within a week or two, she'd be ready to start operating again.

She was ecstatic, working carefully – moreso because of the blue eyes that were watching her so intently. Her heart thumped hard, as she looked over and smiled at the blonde woman standing near the door. Arizona had only been watching her with a soft, kind smile and that alone seemed to energize Callie.

The session had gone much better than the previous one and though Callie insisted that she could push herself this time and _not_ faint, Arizona assured her that she should take it in slow steps and so she listened. Though now she could walk around her hospital room.

Callie dug through her overnight bag that Mark had brought earlier, turning on her phone to look at the vast amount of messages she'd missed. She was absorbed in this now, sitting on the hospital bed with her legs stretched out in front of her. Arizona sat next to her, watching her as she stared at the mobile device, absorbed in whatever she'd been doing. Arizona looked out the window again, blankly staring at the room, waiting for Callie to be finished.

She seemed to be taking too long though, and Arizona couldn't help but let her curiosity known.

"I've been meaning to ask…" she started to say.

"Hm?" Callie murmured, her eyes still locked on her phone.

"What _is_ that? So many people own them. What is it?" Arizona asked.

Callie looked up at her, wondering what Arizona was talking about, only to see the woman pointing to the mobile device in her hand.

"You mean my phone?" Callie asked. She was going to say it was the latest iPhone, but was startled by Arizona's following question.

"That's a phone!?" Arizona exclaimed, leaning in to get a better look.

"Yeah, it's a phone…" Callie said.

" _Wow_. That's super awesome. Can I see?" Arizona asked.

Callie nodded and shifted her position on the bed so Arizona could join her. She made sure the door to her room was shut before handing the device to the blonde apparition.

"Here you go."

Arizona only stared at the device in her hand, holding it as if it were a delicate bird. She poked at the screen, but nothing seemed to happen.

"Don't use your frozen fingertips. Here, press it like this," Callie explained, and Arizona followed, marveling at how it responded to the touch of her finger.

"How do you work it?" she asked.

"Um. Well, what do you want to do?"

"What do you mean?" Arizona asked, looking at Callie. Callie found herself admiring Arizona's curiosity – she was almost like a child with a new toy. Undeniably cute.

"Well, I mean – uh, phones generally do a lot of things. Do you want to listen to a song, do you want-"

"It can play music!?" Arizona gawked.

"Yeah," Callie smiled, "all of them can. Here, look."

Callie opened the application for her music and started to play a song. She put the volume at a decent level and watched as Arizona's face lit up.

" _Wow,_ wow, no wonder people are always staring at these things," Arizona exclaimed, taking hold of the device again. Callie opened an application for a game, letting the music play in the background.

Callie showed her how to play the game, showing her that she only needed to glide her finger across the screen to gain points. The goal of the game was to slice as many things as one could before the timer was up. Arizona quickly caught the goal of the game and was enveloped at once.

Callie watched as Arizona scrunched her face, losing the first game – she was so absorbed, so interested in a simple game that Callie often saw people play with blank expressions, they used it as a catalyst to expel their own boredom. But Arizona had made it seem like the greatest thing in the world. She'd never seen something like that before. She had definitely never seen an iPhone before, either.

"What era are you from?" Callie asked, as the game Arizona was playing concluded.

"Huh?" Arizona asked, looking up at her.

"How could you have not seen a phone before?"

"I've seen phones before, Callie. Just not ones like these," she explained, lifting up the iPhone to show Callie.

"So you've seen landlines."

"What's that?"

"Like a phone with a cord."

"Huh?" Arizona asked, blinking.

"Like a phone… connected to your house which connects to poles outside, you know."

"Oh!" Arizona said, as if she had known all along and had just forgotten the word for it. The response had almost seemed artificial to Callie. "Right," she said, looking back down at the phone.

Arizona quickly started a new game and was again lost in it. Callie only watched her as she played, observing the woman and her change of expressions – wondering who she was and where she came from.

"Arizona?"

"Hmmmm?" Arizona asked, her gaze not faltering from the game.

"Seriously, when did you die?" Callie asked.

"I told you, a long time ago."

Callie sighed and leaned on her side to watch Arizona, who continued to sit up and play the game.

"You're really cute like that," Callie murmured.

"Uh-huh," Arizona replied – clearly the words had completely gone over her head.

###

Callie had finally finished her fifth session of physical therapy. Her therapist insisted that she had been doing great and was ready to be discharged. He told her that she had to come in for follow-up sessions, but it shouldn't be anything too tedious.

When he left the room, she grinned at Arizona, who only nodded her head approvingly, proud of Callie and the state of her recovery. She followed her back to her hospital room – but Arizona said nothing to Callie because Mark had been in there.

"Ready to go home, Cal!?" Mark asked, ecstatically. He had shouldered her overnight bag and was waiting for her to pull on her shoes. He was to accompany her home.

"Most definitely!" Callie exclaimed, grinning back at him.

"Let's go! I've got the day off and a load of movies and popcorn and unhealthy food waiting for us."

Callie smiled at her best friend and his kind gestures, nodding her head delightfully. She could see Arizona smiling at her from the window, her arms folded over her chest.

"But can you give me a few minutes? I want to do some stuff. I'll be quick. Meet you at the entrance, okay?" she asked.

"Sure," he told her, departing the room at once.

Callie shifted her gaze to Arizona, who now walked over to her.

"I feel… hm," Arizona started to say, "hesitation coming from you? Are you sad?" she asked, tilting her head inquiringly.

"A little. I'm grateful," Callie confessed.

"I feel that, too. Your gratitude. It's almost bittersweet, the feeling I'm getting from you right now."

"Well, yeah. You helped me recover. And now I can finally go home. I probably wouldn't have done so well if it weren't for you. So thank you, Arizona," Callie said, standing up in front of her.

"You're welcome," Arizona said, grinning.

Callie nodded her head and shifted backwards, grabbing her purse and looking back at Arizona.

"So…" she started to say.

"So."

"I guess I'll see you around the halls, then," Callie said, turning to leave.

"Yeah… see you…" Arizona smiled, shifting back to the window, leaning against it. As Callie turned her back to her, she shifted her gaze outside the window.

Callie turned to go now, but something made her stop. She stood at the entrance of the room, looking at Arizona who was now absently staring outside of the window, her arms folded again, and her back leaning against it. She didn't even seem to notice Callie, though she could often sense her so strongly. Callie found it strange.

That faraway look had troubled her, but then Arizona turned her gaze back to the door and smiled brightly at Callie, nodding her head.

Callie nodded back at her before shutting the door behind her.

But that faraway gaze of hers seemed to be etched into Callie's mind.

Callie was going home now. She'd get to go home and move on. But where would Arizona go?

What would she do? Where would she go? She was dead.

Callie turned around and opened the door to the room again, but when she looked at the window, Arizona wasn't there anymore.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Callie laughed aloud at the silly antics on the television screen, leaning back comfortably on the couch, her legs stretched out on the coffee table in front of her. Her laughter was quickly followed by her best friend's, who'd been with her, it seemed, for the entirety of last night as well as the majority of the day.

"You know…" she started to say, glancing over to the man who sat next to her.

"Mm?" he grunted, his attention still fully on the television screen.

"I'm good now. You don't have to worry about me anymore," she said, "besides, isn't Lexie gonna be upset that you're spending so much time here?" she asked.

Mark looked over at Callie, the same grin he held from before plastered on his face. She'd been seeing that so often now and couldn't help but feel glee for the older man.

"She gets it. Besides, she's been busy scoring surgeries lately. We haven't had much alone time lately, it kinda sucks, but what can you do when you're two very busy doctors in love?" he explained.

"Love?" Callie gasped, her eyes widening at her best friend's proclamation.

Mark flushed and turned his attention back to the television screen, stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

"Yep," he said, though it came out as more of a grunt due to the food in his mouth.

"Wow! I never thought I'd see the day!" Callie exclaimed, patting him on the shoulder.

Mark swallowed the food in his mouth and glared at her, pushing her hand from off his shoulder.

"I loved Addison too, you know. And I love Lexie now, much more than I've ever loved anything in my life," Mark declared, "I am a man capable of love! Don't be so shocked!"

Callie laughed and leaned back on her side of the couch, eyeing the embarrassed older man.

"I'm happy for you, Mark," she said.

"Thanks," he grinned, looking back at her.

Callie glanced back at the television screen, then looked over at the clock. She had another appointment with her physical therapist soon.

"Now we just need to find you a pretty lady," Mark suddenly said, "so we can both be happy and in love!"

"I'm pretty content right now," Callie replied, sitting up on the couch, not meeting his gaze.

"You seem that way. Have you had your eye on someone lately?" he asked her, dusting scraps of popcorn from off of his lap.

Callie thought back to Arizona and the moment of her departure from the hospital room. It had been so quick, so sudden – she'd already reverted back to her normal life (though she wasn't operating yet) and couldn't help but think that the whole thing had been a dream. She'd grown so used to Arizona's presence during her stay at the hospital. She'd seen her every day, and every time she opened her eyes.

Arizona was there every time she opened her eyes.

But this morning when Callie had woken up, there had been no one there.

When Arizona vanished from that room, it was almost as if she'd completely vanished from Callie's life. It was only a moment. It had only been yesterday. But the whole thing felt as though it were a dream, as though it had been something that she'd made up in her head during her stay at the hospital in order to relinquish her loneliness and relentless boredom.

But everything had felt so very real.

And she couldn't help but recall that distant gaze of Arizona's as she stared outside of the window before vanishing.

"Cal?" Mark asked, interrupting her train of thoughts.

"Oh. Sorry. No, not really. I don't have my eye on anyone. I'm just glad to be home," she assured him.

###

Callie exhaled deeply and stretched her arms out in front of her.

"Damn, I feel good," she declared.

"You are good. You've done great, Doctor Torres," her therapist noted, scribbling in his chart before nodding at her.

Callie looked back at him, and then behind him – noting the vacant spot near to the door of the room. The door that Arizona always stood next to in her previous sessions. But she wasn't there anymore. Callie briefly wondered if she could will her to come, will her to be there and then she would appear – and even then, she knew subconsciously that that was what she wanted. But she couldn't will her there. If she could draw her there, she would be there already.

But she wasn't there. Even when Callie wanted her to be there.

Had Arizona just been a dream? Some wonderful, bewildering dream she had during her stay as a patient?

She turned her attention back to her therapist, who was still scribbling notes on his chart.

"So when can I go back to operating?" she inquired.

"In a few days. Remember, don't jump on the lengthy surgeries immediately. Take it slow. You're still a resident and-" her therapist explained.

"I know, I know," she interrupted.

"Good," he said, "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

###

She wasn't quite sure why she was standing in front of the hospital room that she had left only yesterday. The last image she saw of Arizona seemed to be etched into her mind as she left, and it only continued to flash through her mind consistently throughout the day. She thought it had only been natural to recall the woman – to have her thoughts overflow with her. She was a ghost. It was normal.

But for the moments that Callie had recounted her, she had been a real image. She was most certainly there in front of her – in her mind, in her touch. She was there. Callie had not thought _solely_ of her as an apparition, though that was certainly part of what fascinated her about Arizona. Certainly, Arizona was dead – but in front of Callie, she'd only thought of how pretty she was, how intelligent, how mysterious. Breathtakingly stunning, almost.

It was bewildering, she thought, turning the knob of the door to the hospital room.

"Arizona?" she called out, gently pushing the door open.

Her gaze was immediately directed towards the window, but she was surprised to discover an unknown face by the window, staring back at her curiously. She looked over to the hospital bed at once, and saw an older man sleeping. Her voice did not rouse him out of sleep. The man by the window had stood up now and walked over to her.

"Excuse me?" he asked her.

"Um, uh—sorry, I was looking for someone. I thought this room was empty," she explained.

"My father was just transferred here, can I help you with something?" he asked her, looking her up and down, noting her confusion.

"I'm sorry, I just got the wrong room!"

Callie turned to leave, but before shutting the door, she noticed the empty vase that was still aligned perfectly with the sunlight beaming through the window.

It seemed the lilies had vanished, as well.

###

Callie cursed under her breath, digging through her purse and fumbling with her keys. How could she have been so silly, she thought. If Arizona wanted to come, she would have certainly came. Her desire had, after all, meant nothing.

Maybe she was a dream after all.

She thought so, she really had – she was almost resigned to the notion that Arizona had been nothing but a dream, but then she opened the door to her apartment and saw Arizona sitting there on her couch, eyeing the door cautiously.

"Why are you here?" she heard herself saying.

She didn't know why she even questioned it, the fact that Arizona was there now, in her apartment, sitting on her couch, fumbling with her lab coat. Callie had _wanted_ to see her. Arizona seemed nervous, her blue eyes bright – so strikingly bright. Why was she nervous? She acted as though she were in trouble.

"Well, you're the only one that can see me," Arizona replied, simply.

"I was looking for you earlier."

"I know."

"If you knew, why didn't you come!?" Callie asked, surprised by the tone of her voice. She felt like a fool.

"Because I thought that wasn't what you wanted. I know you wanted me there, but you seemed confused," she explained, "you still do."

"Of course I'm confused!" she exclaimed, "I don't get any of this!"

"I don't even know why I was looking for you." she continued.

"I know, I'm sorry. I don't get it, either."

Callie only watched her from the door, not even knowing what to say. So Arizona continued to speak.

"You confuse me too, Callie. I don't know why. I've never been this confused before, this… this, _struck_ before. I don't know what it is about you," she said, pulling intensely at her lab coat. She seemed incredibly nervous, Callie thought.

"But… I feel, I feel that you want me here, do you?" Arizona asked, "Do you, Callie? Do you want me here?"

"I guess… I don't know," Callie admitted, though she knew that a part of her did want her there, in her presence, in her life. But she was curious to know. "Can't you like visit other people or check up on someone else or something? Don't you have relatives or family or friends?"

Callie was undoubtedly glad that Arizona was there now, there in front of her. Yet, she hadn't come earlier. So where had she gone? Was she contemplating as well? She was clearly just as confused, just as bewildered by the idea of Callie as she was to her.

"I wanted to have fun," Arizona said, seemingly dismissing her questions.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I wanted to have fun with _you_ ," she corrected.

"Why me?" Callie asked.

"Because you acknowledge my existence."

"But you don't exist!" Callie fumed.

Arizona's shoulders flinched – it was almost as though she'd been struck. Her blue eyes widened, they almost seemed to glisten. Her shoulders slumped suddenly, and she looked down at the floor, averting her gaze entirely. She clasped her hands together and fumbled with her thumbs. Callie had struck a chord.

"I'm sorry," Callie told her.

She walked over to the couch now, and kneeled in front of Arizona, who still stared intently at the floor. She wasn't crying (could ghosts cry?) but her eyes were incredibly glossy. Callie saw that distant gaze again – that cloudy, glossy look in her blue eyes. That lost look. She clasped her cheeks so that Arizona would look at her.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Arizona met her eyes now – the distant look gone, yet she seemed incredibly vulnerable to Callie.

"Even ghosts get lonely, Callie."

Her eyes remained the same, glossy and vulnerable and Callie couldn't help but feel incredible sadness for what she had just said. Callie was the only one who saw her. Throughout the entire time she'd been dead, however long that was, Callie was the only one who acknowledged that she was there. She gently stroked her thumbs against her cheeks – they were warm and flushed, almost as if she had been crying.

"Right," she murmured, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Arizona."

Arizona smiled at her – a gentle, simple smile. A kind of sad, heartwarming smile that made Callie's heart thump. And now, Callie had noticed their close proximity. She was close, so close. She would only have to lean her body upwards to meet the other woman's lips.

But she resisted and drew back, now standing up in front of Arizona. Arizona followed her movements with her eyes and now looked up at her, almost disappointed that Callie had moved away.

"Besides, you seem glad now," she suddenly said.

"I, I do?" Callie asked.

"I sense it coming from you."

"Of course you do," Callie retorted – she sensed that, among other things, she thought. She briefly wondered if Arizona could feel her overwhelming desire. This thought made her back away, just a little more.

"Um… so," Callie started to say, "do you want a tour of the apartment?" she asked.

"I would love that."

Callie stood up and walked to the middle of the room.

"Well, this is the living room," she stated.

Arizona laughed, "I can see that. Modern and edgy, it's nice."

"Is it really?" Callie asked her.

"What?"

"You don't seem so enthralled by it."

"Well, modern's not really my thing," Arizona explained.

"Seems like it," Callie grinned, walking over to the kitchen.

"I do like it, though. Especially your kitchen. I could totally see myself living here."

"Well," Callie murmured, "stick around, then."

"What?" Arizona asked.

"Well, I don't know. I know the hospital is your trademark, but you're welcome if you want, you know, to visit me," Callie explained, feeling her cheeks grow hot. She really had gotten used to Arizona's presence. She almost felt as though she'd been asking the blonde apparition to move in.

"I think I will," Arizona smiled.

Callie walked over to her bedroom, opening the door and ushering Arizona inside.

"And this is my bedroom," she explained, her arm moving in an exaggerated motion, as though she'd been presenting it to an audience.

"It's lovely," Arizona told her, walking over to her bedside. She scanned the room and looked at Callie's framed photos and books that sat next to the lamp on her nightstand.

"Wow, you look really pretty," Arizona remarked, glossing her fingertips over a picture of Callie and her father.

"Thanks."

"Is this your father?"

"Yeah, that's my dad," she affirmed, watching as Arizona intently observed the picture, marveling over the resemblance of the two.

"He seems like a nice man," she said.

"He is. The greatest," Callie grinned.

Arizona looked at her and smiled, placing the photo back in its proper place. The two only stared at each other, and Callie suddenly felt very nervous, having Arizona in her room.

"I have to go shopping," she suddenly declared.

Arizona looked surprised at the sudden remark, her blue eyes widening in confusion, "Shopping?"

"I need groceries and there's no way that Cristina will buy anything for this apartment," she continued.

"Oh, you mean your roommate, right?"

"Yeah," she affirmed, "but you can't go very far, can you?"

"Huh?"

"Well, you came here because it's right across from the hospital, right?" Callie explained, "but you can't go that far away from it, can you?"

"I can, I think I can."

"I thought you said-"

"I'm always drawn back… but," she continued, "I'm more drawn to you. So I think I could follow you wherever you went, really."

Callie suddenly felt her body flushed, and was aware of the hard thumping in her chest. Maybe it was a really bad idea to bring this woman into her room so easily.

"What?" Arizona asked, "you seem embarrassed?"

"Uh, well, that was quite a declaration, you know," Callie murmured.

And for just a moment, it seemed to Callie that Arizona blushed, as well.

"Well, you're the only one that can see-" she started to say, as if justifying her previous remark.

"Yeah, I get it," Callie laughed, cutting her off.

###

"Should you really be driving?" Arizona asked, as Callie secured the buckle to her seatbelt and turned the engine to the car on.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's not snowy, I'm not dizzy. We'll be fine," she assured Arizona, setting off to drive at once.

"Is this your car?" Arizona inquired.

"No, no way!" Callie laughed. "My car was wrecked. This is Mark's car. Apparently he started renting the apartment across from mine, so he doesn't need to use his car often," she explained, shifting her gaze to Arizona momentarily.

"Mark," she murmured, "that guy? Your best friend, right?"

"That's right."

There was a strange silence and Callie looked over to Arizona as she stopped at a red light. She was met with Arizona's strikingly bright and curious eyes.

"What?" Callie asked.

"Just a friend?" she grinned.

"Just a friend. We've got a slight history, but there's nothing to it," Callie assured her, briefly jumping at the sound of a horn behind her.

"History, huh?" Arizona inquired.

"What's with that tone?" Callie coaxed, playfully.

"What about this Erica Hahn person?" Arizona asked, as Callie made a right turn into the parking lot of the supermarket.

"How do you know about that?" Callie asked, surprised.

"People talk in that hospital. A lot. I listen. Nothing else to do," Arizona explained, shrugging as Callie drifted into a parking spot, now stopping the car.

"She was… an ex, I guess."

"So…" Arizona started to say, as Callie moved to unbuckle her seatbelt.

"You like women, then?" she asked.

Callie briefly looked up at her, again, aware of the close proximity between the two of them. Arizona sat on the passenger's side, looking at Callie with her clear, inquiring eyes as the latter woman fumbled with her seatbelt. She finally clicked it open.

"Yes," she said, "I do."

Arizona only smiled at her as Callie opened the door to get out. She waited until Arizona came out from the driver's side and shut the door to the car.

"Can't you just go through the car?" Callie asked, "it's such a hassle to get out that way."

"I told you before, I don't want to freak you out."

"You're not going to freak me out, Arizona," Callie assured her, walking out of the parking lot and into the supermarket.

"Fine," Arizona said, as Callie pulled out a list of groceries. She took a shopping cart parked in the corner and began to scan the aisles.

Callie suddenly realized that she was surrounded by a number of people. She couldn't speak loudly, even if Arizona was right next to her. To others, it would resemble a mad woman simply speaking to herself.

"So," Callie murmured under her breath.

"Huh?" Arizona asked, moving closer to hear her better.

"So you're just going to have to read my expressions or else you'll make me look really crazy," she murmured, darting her eyes back and forth, making sure that no one was looking at her.

"Okay," Arizona laughed, suddenly aware of Callie's dilemma.

As the two walked down the aisles, a woman came in the opposite direction of Callie – in a normal setting, Arizona's presence would have obstructed her movements, and she would have to move aside for the woman. But since Arizona was dead, there should have been no need for that. Yet, in that moment, Arizona seemed to leap, and suddenly, was levitating in the air. She pulled her knees closer to her body and then proceeded to fold her legs together, with her feet tucked just under her thighs – resembling a sitting position.

" _Oh my god_ , you really can float…" Callie murmured, exasperated.

Arizona only glanced over at her and grinned. She looked down at Callie and shrugged.

"Well, I hate to walk through people. They always get a sort of chill."

Callie wanted to ask how, but noted the vast amount of people walking down the aisles. She connected her headphones with a built-in microphone to her phone so that people would assume she was talking to someone on the phone. She stuck the buds in her ears – Arizona watching her, clearly not understanding just what she was doing.

"What do you mean?" Callie asked, under her breath.

"Hmm?" Arizona asked.

"Show me what you mean," she murmured.

Arizona nodded and landed on the ground again. As another woman walked down the aisle, she demonstrated by walking through the woman – Callie was baffled. How could a person that seemed so real just walk through another? She wasn't even transparent upon doing so. The woman briefly stopped in her tracks, shivering, but quickly shaking off the peculiar feeling.

"Oh man, that is _so_ weird," Callie said.

"Yeah, I told you," Arizona explained, reverting to her strange seated position in mid-air, "so I'd rather float."

"God, that is _so_ weird," Callie repeated, looking up at her.

"Are you freaked out?" Arizona inquired.

"No, it's amazing," Callie laughed, pushing her shopping cart down the aisle as Arizona followed, floating just behind her shoulder.

"These look super delicious," Arizona pointed out, gesturing at some recently laid-out oranges.

"Can you eat?" Callie inquired.

"Hmm?"

"Do you eat?"

Arizona gave her a strange smile and then shook her head, "No, I don't. I don't need to eat or sleep."

"That sounds kind of amazing," Callie said.

"I guess. But you know, I sort of miss the sensation of a good dream or a delectable dish," she started to say, "it just… makes you feel human. Hunger. And dreams. But I am always day dreaming. I think I have a way of dreaming," she explained. Callie only watched her as she observantly stared at the oranges. Callie briefly saw that strange look in her eyes again.

"A way of dreaming?" she asked, eager to know more.

"A trance, I guess," Arizona said, "it doesn't happen very often."

"What do you mean, a trance?" Callie asked.

Their conversation was interrupted by a man who stopped his cart just next to Callie's. Arizona floated back to her position in the air and dismissed the thought.

"It's hard to explain."

###

Arizona went through the car this time and sat in the passenger's side as Callie placed the groceries in the trunk and sat back in the driver's seat.

"If you can go through walls and cars, how come you're not going through the seat?" Callie asked.

"If I wanted to, I could."

"Show me," Callie said.

"Do you really need proof?"

Callie started the engine again and laughed to herself.

"I guess not."

She set the car into drive again, but set out for another location, further from the apartment.

"Where are we going now?" Arizona inquired.

"I need to get some new sneakers."

During the drive, Callie often glanced back at Arizona, who observed the scenery from the window on her side of the car. She seemed enamored. She really hadn't been outside of the hospital, Callie thought. She wondered how different things appeared to be in Arizona's eyes. She wondered what Arizona saw the last time she was outside.

They made it to the shopping mall and into the shoe store, and even though it had been so late in the day, it seemed everyone from the city was suddenly packed into the mall. Callie supposed it was normal, since it was just around the time when many got off from their jobs, yet it bothered her a little – the fact that she couldn't actively interact with Arizona.

Callie sat in the store, trying on some sneakers. The store itself was relatively crowded so she was sure not to call out to Arizona. She often looked up to see where the woman had gone off to, but she wasn't too worried – for if Arizona floated, she could spot her immediately.

"Wow, _wow,_ these are _so_ cool," Arizona exclaimed, drawing Callie's attention from across the room.

Callie quickly picked up her chosen shoes and put them in the box, hurrying over to the blonde apparition. She was surprised to see Arizona pointing at a pair of pink and white heelys.

"Look, they have wheels under them! They're like shoes," she explained, "with skates attached! And you can practically turn them on or off as you'd like!" she gawked, marveling over it.

"A lot of kids buy those," Callie murmured, clearly not impressed.

"They're so cool."

"You've never seen heelys?"

"That's what they're called?"

"Yeah."

"No, I've never seen them."

Callie stood next to her as she eyed them intently. She seemed so enamored, as if it had been something she'd desired for so long. Arizona suddenly landed on her feet and looked up at Callie, before pointing again at the shoes.

"Can I try them on?" Arizona asked her, like a child asking for a toy.

To this, Callie rolled her eyes and looked around. There were so many people around.

"Please?" Arizona asked, " _Please?_ "

"Can't you come back when no one is around?" Callie murmured, envisioning products in the store moving on their own after dark. She could see Arizona leaving the place in a mess before disappearing at dawn.

"There are cameras."

"So?" Callie retorted, though Arizona had made a fair point.

"Come on, Callie!"

Callie grumbled and crouched down to grab the box that Arizona had been pointing at. She walked over to a seat with her and took the shoes out of the box, fumbling with laces for a moment. Noticing Callie, a store clerk walked over to assist her.

"Um, ma'am? We have larger sizes of those, if you'd like to see them," noting that Callie's size of shoes was a bit larger.

"Oh, no – uh, these are for a friend."

The store assistant only nodded and walked off and Callie paused and placed the shoes in her lap. She briefly thought about how the skates would look to a normal person. If Arizona put them on, would they vanish? Or would the shoes just be moving on their own? No, either way, Arizona definitely couldn't try them on here, out in the open.

"What?" Arizona asked, noticing the pause in Callie's actions.

"You do realize the dilemma here, don't you?" she murmured, under her breath.

Before Arizona could respond, another store employee walked by Callie. She called his attention at once.

"Do you have a fitting room?" she inquired.

The man briefly gave her a strange look and then Callie thought that it had indeed been a strange inquiry – this was a shoe store, there was no changing room. "No…" he murmured, and she only nodded her head before he walked off again.

"You see?" Callie murmured to Arizona.

"Oh," Arizona said, disappointed.

"Sorry, you can't try them on," Callie said, putting them back in the box.

Arizona's shoulders fell and she gazed longingly at the box, disappointment evident on her features. Callie groaned.

"Oh, fine!"

###

Arizona eagerly slipped her feet into her new pair of heelys, tying the laces – Callie could see the glee and excitement she was feeling as she showed her how the wheels popped out from under her feet. She maneuvered them so easily and glided across the room – making a little _snap_ each time she popped the wheels back.

Callie felt herself charmed. The woman was so ecstatic and happy, so pleased with her new gift. Callie laughed as Arizona lost her balance, breaking her fall by levitating. That was totally cheating.

"So would the heelys be visible while you weren't?" Callie suddenly asked her.

"What do you mean?" Arizona asked, gliding again across the room, though she kept her attention on Callie.

"Like, would a normal person see the shoes moving around on their own?"

Arizona showed no hesitation in her answer, though she briefly thought about it, "Yeah, probably."

"I thought so," Callie said.

"I don't pick up objects when people are around," Arizona told her.

"What about your clothes?"

"Huh?"

"Your clothes never change," Callie said, eyeing her up and down – noting the almost new looking scrubs and lab coat.

"They don't really need to," Arizona replied.

Her clothing was so kept – it wasn't as though the clothes could age and be worn out as clothes normally do when one wears them day to day – no, they weren't battered or ripped or even showing signs of age. They were flawless. Much like Arizona herself, Callie thought.

"You're always so flawless," Callie said, simply.

Arizona suddenly stopped, the wheels of her heelys making another _click_ sound. She looked over at Callie and seemed to be blushing. Her cheeks seemed flushed and Callie felt herself suddenly enamored. What an expressive ghost, she thought.

"My clothes change over time," Arizona suddenly said.

"Huh?" Callie asked, snapping out of her daze.

"If I desire it enough, my clothes change over time," Arizona explained.

" _When_ did you die?" Callie asked again.

To this, Arizona only sighed and turned her head, "I told you-"

"Fine, I won't ask anymore," Callie grumbled.

She stood up from the couch and went towards her bedroom.

"Callie—"

"It's fine, you clearly don't want to tell me," Callie said, not looking back at her. She heard Arizona follow after her and grab at her shoulder.

"It's just not important," Arizona murmured, softly.

"Why is it not important?" Callie snapped, turning to look at her.

"Because I'm already dead," Arizona said, again in a soft, sad, yet incredibly soothing voice, "so why does it matter?"

Callie's shoulders dropped and she looked at the woman standing in front of her. She recalled the fun, though peculiar day and the pleasant feeling she had just being with her. Arizona was right, why should it have matter? She was there now.

She briefly reached out and twirled a blonde strand of hair through her finger.

"So if your clothes change if your desire is strong enough," Callie asked, "will you suddenly have heelys on tomorrow?"

"Maybe," Arizona grinned.

 


	5. Chapter 5

She dreamt of hazy blue eyes peering into her own. But it wasn't something that had felt familiar, though she'd often seen them before, for those blue eyes were exceptionally close to her own, closer than they had ever been. And slowly closing distance, those eyes were sensuously dark and glazed with desire, and they seemed to be amusingly taking in her own form. They burned with passion and ignited some kind of desire within her and then she suddenly felt herself immersed in those eyes, lost, immersed in a kind of touch – sensual, warm, soothing – and suddenly, everything became familiar.

She felt overwhelmed with the figure hovering before her, she felt herself a captive to sensation.

Then those eyes closed and their owner drew nearer, touching and grazing her lips against her own. They were incredibly soft and plump in just the right manner and then she felt a tongue gently grazing her lips, she felt hands sliding down her body – downwards, slowly downwards.

The fingertips of those hands were cold. And as they slipped into her, she felt herself overwhelmed with sensation.

The startling brightness of the room had roused Callie from her dream and urged her to turn on her side. She was aware that her alarm would alert her that she'd have to go to work soon, but the comforting warmth of her blankets kept her in place. She was overly conscious of the heat between her legs as she clenched her thighs together under the sheets. She was aware, also, of blue eyes peering at her – awaiting the opening of her own eyes.

"You're awake," she heard.

" _Mmugh_ ," Callie groaned in reply.

"You're awake, I know you are," the voice continued, "wake up!"

To the demand, she only lifted the sheet above her head, as though to shield her from the sunlight and that bright voice.

"Don't you sleep?" Callie groaned from under the blanket, her voice huskily laced with sleep.

"No, I told you already," she heard Arizona say, "I don't sleep."

Callie finally poked her head out from the sheets and was met with blue eyes – not as close as they seemed to be in her dream, but close enough, it seemed. Arizona was laying on her side next to Callie, eyeing her curiously.

She briefly wondered if Arizona had felt her desire, she wondered if Arizona could see her dreams. Or only if she could sense it. She recalled their previous encounter, in which she had told Arizona she'd been dreaming of her, to which Arizona had simply replied that she knew. There was no doubt that the blonde apparition could sense Callie's feelings. There was a hint of amusement in Arizona's bright eyes, and Callie couldn't help but wonder if she'd known exactly what she was dreaming of.

The figure in the dream was of course, Arizona. Callie knew it from those eyes and from that cold, soothing touch. She knew it.

Of course, it shouldn't have meant anything. She'd often have weird sexual dreams about her friends or people she knew. Quite often. And they were certainly preposterous, but nothing to be alarmed about and nothing to distinctly recall. She hadn't woken up in a flurry of lust, either. And yet, she'd never had a dream of such intensity as she did when she dreamt of the woman in front of her. Maybe it was because she was otherworldly and strikingly different.

"So, what did you do all night?" Callie asked. "Watch me sleep?"

Arizona blinked at her and finally sat up on the bed, pushing blonde locks of hair back from her forehead.

"No," Arizona said. "Well, for a little while. But then I just ended up reading your books."

To this, Callie sat up as well – suddenly, very alarmed.

"You, you went through my stuff?" she asked.

"No, no! I read the books on your nightstand."

"O-Oh," Callie said, relieved.

"Why?" Arizona asked her.

"No reason," Callie murmured.

"Are you hiding something dirty?" Arizona grinned.

"No!" Callie exclaimed.

She was wary of having Arizona spend the night when she'd found out that the ghost did not sleep. Not to say she was suspicious of Arizona, she just would have preferred to introduce her to things on her own time. Callie had determined that Arizona was clearly not versed in modern-day things or objects, she was quite technologically illiterate, in fact. She didn't want a blender or microwave to explode while she'd been sleeping. She certainly didn't want things moving around in her living room when her roommate was around.

"That reaction makes me think otherwise."

"Forget it, it's not that. I have nothing dirty to hide!" Callie announced proudly, kicking the sheets off from her legs.

Arizona followed in suit and stood up from the bed. Callie clicked off her alarm and quickly scrambled around her room, gathering some clothes for her day.

"Therapy today?" Arizona inquired, curiously watching as Callie dug through her closet.

"Yep. My therapist says I'll be ready to operate in a few days, but I'm totally going to prove him wrong and jump right back on the surgeries today. Everyone's pretty confident in my abilities, so it should be no problem," she explained, hurrying off to the bathroom.

Though she'd shut the door behind her, she was surprised to see Arizona behind her, following her right into the bathroom. Callie turned to look at her, a bewildered expression on her face.

"What?" Arizona asked.

"What do you mean _what_? Are you gonna watch me shower?" Callie asked her.

"Oh… no, that wasn't my intention," Arizona said, her cheeks turning red. Callie smiled at her reaction, she seemed strangely formal when it suddenly came to Callie questioning her suggestive flirtation.

"Well, then what?" Callie asked her, walking over to the sink. She pulled out her toothbrush and turned on the faucet.

"Um, well… I don't know, what should I do?" Arizona asked her, following Callie behind the sink as she began to scrub her teeth.

Callie bowed her head briefly to spit, and began to speak as she lifted her head to look into the mirror.

"What do you mean, what do should you-" she started to say, but was silenced by the reflection of the mirror in front of her. Rather, she seemed to be silenced by the _lack_ of reflection in the mirror. She only stared at her own gaping face. Alarmed, she quickly turned around.

Startled by Callie's quick movement, Arizona backed away with wide eyes, watching the bewildered woman who only watched her in amazement. Callie quickly turned back to look at the mirror again, and then back at Arizona, who had finally realized what Callie had.

"That's right," she said. "I don't have a reflection."

"Right," Callie said, lowering her gaze. She turned back to the mirror and stared at the reflection of the vacant space where Arizona should have been standing.

"Because you're dead."

"Right," Arizona said.

"Um," Callie said. "You can just wait for me in my bedroom. I'm going to shower. I'll be quick. Or you can wander around, but don't touch anything because I think Cristina is still home," she explained, bowing her head to scrub her teeth again.

"Okay," she heard behind her.

Callie spat in the sink again and then looked up at the mirror. She turned around again and found that Arizona had gone from the bathroom. She turned herself back to the mirror and looked at the vacant space where Arizona had just been standing behind her. The mirror had depicted nothing of the sort, the mirror had said otherwise. The mirror had that vacant space all along.

The mirror dictated that Arizona was never standing there.

"That's right," Callie said. "She's not there."

###

Callie opened the door of her bedroom and was met with the sight of Arizona standing next to Cristina who had been sitting on the couch, reading. The former was staring in awe at the television screen, which seemed to be playing a commercial advertisement for the iPhone. Cristina was immersed in whatever book she'd been reading, failing to notice as Callie strolled into the kitchen.

"You're not gonna greet your roommate who's been away for so long?" Callie asked, startling Cristina from her silent indulgence.

"Huh, what?" her roommate asked from the couch, looking at her. Arizona turned her attention to the two and peered at Callie – the latter quickly meeting her gaze. She quickly looked back at Cristina, who blankly stared back at her.

"What?" Cristina asked.

"Where's my welcome home?" Callie retorted.

"Welcome home!" Arizona exclaimed.

Callie rolled her eyes, both at Arizona and Cristina's continued blank expression.

"Oh, I thought you were home for a while now."

"No, I just got home two days ago."

"That's nice," she murmured, turning her attention back to the book in front of her. "Are you back in the OR?"

"Not yet, but-"

"Oh," Cristina said, finishing the conversation.

Callie rolled her eyes and turned around to gather cooking utensils from the cupboard. She pulled out a frying pan and set it on the stove. Arizona quickly moved next to her and observed what she was doing. Callie only eyed her curiously.

"What?" Arizona asked, noticing her stare. "I haven't seen anyone cook in a long time, okay?"

Callie only smiled and nodded, pulling ingredients from the fridge as Arizona followed her around.

"Your roommate is pretty rude, by the way," she noted, gesturing to Cristina, who still sat immobile and reading.

Callie chuckled lightly at her remark and nodded her head, beginning to fry eggs in the pan. She heard Arizona scuffle around her, observing all of the utensils in the kitchen and the open cupboard, as if to take it all in. But with such excitement.

"You're like a dog sometimes, I swear," Callie declared.

"What?" she heard Cristina say. Arizona blinked at Callie, aware that the remark was directed towards her, but turned her attention to Cristina, who was now looking back at Callie.

"Ah, um," Callie stuttered. "Well, you don't expect me to provide food for you all the time, do you?" she quickly asked, internally applauding herself for the seemingly random remark (though it was really just a slip).

"I mean, I buy _all_ the groceries and-" Callie continued.

"I thought it was our unspoken agreement that you'd always provide the food. It's been years, that hasn't changed," Cristina protested, shutting the book and standing up. She walked over the window and tossed the book in a cardboard box that was filled with a number of books that looked the same.

"What are you reading?" Callie asked. "Some medical journals? Those boxes are in the way."

"I know, I know," Cristina said, walking to the kitchen as Callie laid out eggs on a plate for her. Grabbing a fork, she sat down and started to eat.

"By the way, your rent is way overdue."

Callie groaned and placed food on her own plate, taking a seat, as well. Bored, Arizona quickly made her way to the living room and stared at the television again.

"I paid your half this month, don't worry. Consider me an amazing roommate," Cristina told her.

"Of course," Callie said, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

She looked over to Arizona, who already seemed bored of the television channel she'd been watching. The weather channel will do that to you, she thought.

"So are you operating again?" Cristina asked.

"Not yet. I should be back in the OR at noon," Callie declared, grinning at her personal determination.

Callie turned her attention back to the window, where Cristina had a number of boxes and loose pieces of clothing laying around.

"You need to move that stuff into your own room."

"I will."

"What medical journals are you reading? So much that you seem to be losing sleep over them?" Callie asked, noting the fatigue in the other woman's face.

"I lose sleep regardless. Those are Ellis Grey's journals. Mer doesn't want to read them, but god, that damned woman is a genius," Cristina explained, the glee in her tone evident as she spoke.

"That's good," Callie said, suddenly intimidated by her roommate. Since Arizona showed up, she really hadn't been concentrating at all on medicine or research. She hadn't touched a medical journal for a while, actually. She'd always done that in the past, but suddenly, this woman put a stop to everything. She didn't make Callie stop, it wasn't her fault. Callie suddenly thought that she had to get her priorities straight.

The two quickly finished their meal and placed their dishes in the sink. Cristina turned to go to her room, but her attention was quickly caught by the television suddenly changing channels.

"What the hell?" Cristina grumbled. "I was listening to that," she said, hurrying over to the television. She slapped the cable box only lightly and frowned, then turning the television off. Arizona groaned in frustration. Now she couldn't turn it back on.

Cristina hurried into her room and Callie turned her attention to Arizona, who now looked at her from beside the television screen. She narrowed her eyes.

"What?" Arizona asked. "The weather channel is boring."

Callie opened her mouth to say something, but quickly stopped herself as Cristina rushed out of her room and past her, murmuring a _See you later_ before heading out of the apartment. Callie made certain that Cristina had gone before completely turning her attention to Arizona. She walked over to where she stood in the living room.

"You could have changed it when she left," Callie grumbled.

"Well, she didn't take much notice, anyway," Arizona said, simply.

"Uh-huh," Callie murmured, watching as the blonde innocently grinned back at her.

The whole morning had been a rush and suddenly, there was a sense of calm and ease amidst the two. Yet, they only stared at each other. Callie suddenly began to recall her dream and felt her heart begin to thump. She backed away in order to gather her jacket and purse.

"I'm like a dog?" Arizona suddenly said, breaking the silence as Callie pulled her jacket over her body.

"Okay, not a dog. That's not what I meant."

Arizona arched an eyebrow at her and Callie only blinked in response, now pulling on her shoes.

"You're energetic like a dog. Like a dog, or a child, you know. Like a super excited kid. You're super excited about stuff, I like that."

"So you think I'm like a kid, then…"

"No, of course not. I just meant-"

"It's okay, Callie," Arizona replied coolly. "I'm flattered."

"Are, are you?" Callie murmured, opening the door to the apartment. But she didn't leave yet, she just kept her hand on the door knob and stood, looking at Arizona. She saw that familiar hint of amusement in her eyes again and suddenly, her heart began to thump wildly.

She knew.

"Yes, "Arizona affirmed. "Especially flattered about your dream this morning, too."

Callie suddenly felt her body heated, she could feel the rush of blood in her head. She knew. She knew about the dream, she thought. She stood and watched Arizona in silence, who only smiled brightly at her.

"I, uh," she started to say.

"I'll see you at the hospital," Arizona said, slipping through the door and out of sight.

###

Callie felt a great urge to applaud herself. She'd done exceptionally well in convincing her therapist that she should be able to operate. Though he had initially told her "in a few days", she'd known that those words simply entailed safety measures. Every doctor knew the true meaning of those words.

And so Callie delightfully strolled out of his office and into the hospital hallway, making her way to the Residents' lounge to change. Arizona hadn't been there to see her convince him, but she was sure the woman was aware, she was sure the cheerful ghost could sense her joy and pride in finally being able to return.

So she wasn't surprised to see Arizona skating down the hallway on her heelys, coming towards her with a bright smile on her face. She was surprised for a moment, because Arizona had just gotten the heelys yesterday, but then she turned her attention to others walking down the hall and quickly noted that they took no notice of the blonde's rollerskate shoes. It seemed she manifested the heelys overnight, Callie thought.

She smiled at Arizona and then quickly turned to enter the Residents' Lounge. Shutting the door behind her, she was relieved to find the place desolate. She turned around as Arizona came through the door, that same smile on her face.

"So I guess it went well, then?" Arizona inquired.

"Yep!" Callie exclaimed, now turning her attention to the woman's shoes. "Those are?"

"These are my heelys, ghost version," Arizona explained, kicking each foot for dramatic effect.

"They look exactly the same!"

"Of course they do."

"You could have gone for a cooler look," Callie insisted. "Why go for plain pink and white?"

"Because I like those colors," Arizona replied. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate in her response, but then quickly added, "And this is the color you gave to me. So, of course I'd keep it. If it's from you."

Callie felt her heart begin to race again and only smiled in response at Arizona's explanation. She turned around and found her locker, sitting down on the bench in front of it. She then began to unlace her shoes.

"You know," she started. "You know, I've only done so well because of you."

"Because of me?" she heard Arizona ask. She felt the woman draw closer to her as she took her shoes off and stood up to unbuckle her belt.

"Yeah," Callie said, honestly. "I don't think I would have been that motivated or that happy, without you. I, I think it's because you were there that I, uh, that I was able to put myself back together."

Callie slipped off her pants as she explained her thoughts to Arizona, whose gaze, she felt, seemed to burn right through her. She felt her body grow hot when thinking of Arizona's bright blue eyes peering at her exposed form. She quickly slipped on her scrub pants.

"How?" Arizona asked.

"It must be," Callie started to say, taking off her shirt. She turned around to look at Arizona, whose gaze quickly fell to her bra-clad chest and then back to her face. She watched the blonde apparition's cheeks grow red at being caught. "It must be your joy," Callie said.

To this, Arizona's eyes widened and she seemed to be momentarily rendered speechless. Callie slipped on her scrub shirt now and smiled softly at the confused ghost, who only looked at her with an expression of surprise and joy.

"My joy?" Arizona asked. "I don't think I've been all too happy to-"

"Your genuine joy for things," Callie interrupted. "When you smile, you seem utterly happy. And that makes me feel happy, too. And you care so much, so much that I'm speechless. Maybe it's because I'm the only one who can see you or whatever, but I couldn't care about that. I'm just glad you care. I'm glad you cared enough to be there even when I was rude."

Arizona only stared at Callie, her eyes softening and glowing. She seemed genuinely surprised at Callie's response. Callie bent down to slip on her shoes and then looked back up at Arizona.

"So I'm grateful for that," Callie said. "I'm grateful for you," she said. "I'm grateful _to_ you, but I'm also grateful _for_ you," she corrected.

Arizona smiled softly at Callie, her eyes glazed over as though moved by her speech. She nodded her head and murmured, "Thank you, Callie."

"But I just thanked you!" Callie laughed.

"It means a lot to me, you have no idea," Arizona continued.

"Really?"

"Really," Arizona said. "I thought I couldn't exist for anyone. I'm glad that I can exist for you.”

###  
  
Callie still felt her heart fluttering as she left the Residents' lounge. She figured that it had to be something like that. It was as though her stomach was filled with butterflies – she felt incredibly light. It was almost as if her heart was leaping inside of her chest. Callie wasn't one for clichés but she had no idea how to describe to herself the way she felt. She thought that maybe she had to get over the butterflies.

She didn't know what else it was. Maybe it was the way Arizona had smiled for her – the way she said _I'm glad I can exist for you_ – because she had no one else to exist for. She existed to no one else. Upon that realization, Callie's heart seemed to fall. It felt like a dropping sensation, all at once. She wondered how lonely that must be – to be among a crowd, to walk down the halls without another person even looking your way. Without anyone acknowledging your presence at all.

While making her way to the nurses' station, she had the thought that if others could see Arizona, perhaps their own lives would brighten the way hers suddenly had. She could brighten anyone's day, Callie thought. If Arizona was there, Callie knew that people would love her. Just as she did.

Well, maybe not _love_ , Callie thought, correcting herself. But admire. Yes, _admire_ – Callie thought. Maybe if Arizona was there to others, Callie wouldn't be so enamored. She felt that it was strange to be so infatuated.

But what did it matter? When Arizona smiled at her like that, with her eyes so bright and her smile so wide and with her gentle nod and soft voice, what did it matter? Who wouldn't be a little infatuated?

She was enamored, she thought.

Callie walked to the nurses' station and grabbed her chart for the day. She glanced over at the daily surgery board, noting that she was not listed among the surgeons performing today. It looked as though Webber had not been informed, Callie thought briefly.

"Cal, you're back!" she heard behind her.

She turned around to greet her best friend, who stood behind her, grinning widely.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed. "I noticed they haven't put my name on the board, though."

"I don't think Webber knows you've been checked off for surgery yet," Mark explained.

"Guess I'll have to clarify it for him, then."

"He's been busy," Mark said.

Mark's attention was immediately diverted by Lexie Grey strolling down the hall. As she met his eyes, she smiled brightly. She hadn't made her way over to the nurses' station to join them; rather, she quickly made her way into an on-call room, indicating something to him.

Callie only arched her eyebrows in amusement, watching as Mark turned back to her with a sly grin.

"So I guess things are going great again, huh?" Callie asked, bemused.

"Well, yeah," he said. "Only got time during the breaks, you know? Downtime."

"So when are you going to move in together?" Callie inquired.

Mark's eyes widened, as if he hadn't considered that – and he seemed to fall into his own train of thought, scratching his chin lightly. Callie looked behind him to see Arizona trailing down the hall in her heelys. She came to a halt right behind Mark, who hadn't seemed to notice Callie's huge grin.

"That's… complicated," Mark said, finally.

"Huh?" Callie asked, turning her attention to Mark once more.

"Well…" Mark murmured, and quickly looked behind him, startling Arizona with his quick movement. He then looked around and grabbed Callie by the shoulders, whispering into her ear.

"Oh man, I've got a lot to tell you," he murmured.

"Okay…?" Callie said, and then he let go of her shoulders and winked before hurrying down the hall and into the on-call room that Lexie had entered only moments ago.

Callie watched his departing figure and then turned her attention to Arizona, who only watched her with curious eyes. Her gaze seemed questioning to Callie, who only watched her back. She looked over at the surgical board again and back at Arizona, waiting for her to say something. She couldn't say anything without looking outrageous, and so, she began to walk down the hall, in the direction of Webber's office.

Arizona quickly followed behind her. She almost struggled to keep up because of Callie's fast pace – though Callie had only been eager to get back to surgery, she thought that she was worrying the ghost because of her haste. She must have been giving the wrong impression, she thought briefly.

"What was that?" Arizona inquired.

"Hmm?" Callie murmured, surprisingly annoyed at all of the people around her. She couldn't speak loudly to Arizona because there were so many doctors and nurses among other employees strolling the halls.

"Did he tell you something private?" Arizona asked. "Why was he whispering in your ear?" she asked again, almost innocently.

Callie quickly turned her attention to Arizona, who had been pacing just behind her, struggling to keep up, which was strange because she could have floated if she wanted to. Arizona had a strange look on her face – she seemed innocent – unknowing, but also incredibly curious, probably because she'd known nothing of Mark aside from the previous trysts with him that Callie had involved herself with. She seemed cautious and worried, all at once. Callie wondered if she was jealous.

"What?" Callie murmured. "I don't know, it was nothing," she said, under her breath.

"But you looked surprised."

"Because it was weird," Callie insisted. She hadn't been keeping up with the news of Mark's new relationship with Lexie, so she knew virtually nothing of what had happened during the course of a few days. Mark hadn't told her much, but he seemed incredibly infatuated, which was surprising to Callie, who'd never seen him like that before.

"Okay…" Arizona murmured, continuing to walk behind Callie, who now slowed her pace. They reached Webber's office and Callie lightly knocked on the door before turning her attention to Arizona, who still watched her with that strange expression.

"Why?" Callie asked. "Are you jealous? You seem jealous," she joked.

"I am," Arizona murmured. "A little."

Callie watched as Arizona's expression changed – she couldn't quite read it, but Arizona now looked slightly embarrassed, yet incredibly confident. As if she was just about to declare something. She opened her mouth to say something, but was quickly interrupted by Webber's opening of the door. Callie turned her attention to Webber, who looked almost surprised to see her.

"Torres!" he remarked. "What a surprise."

He turned around to let her into the office and Arizona followed behind. He then shut the door and looked at Callie, who didn't seem to know where to sit. He walked over to his desk and sat on his seat, gesturing for her to sit in the seat across from his desk. She promptly sat and Arizona walked over and stood next to her, almost stiff in her stance. She seemed tense, which was strange to Callie, but she did not keep her gaze on Arizona. She turned her attention to Webber at once.

"What can I do for you?" he asked. "You've recovered nicely, I see."

"Yes, well," Callie started to say. Her words faltered because of Arizona's sudden movement, she nonchalantly walked over to Webber and began to observe him up close. Callie grew tense, it seemed awkward to look at Webber, who only watched her curiously, waiting for a response while Arizona stood next to him, staring him down intently. Except Arizona did not seem amused or interested, it seemed as though she were observing him – scaling him down, measuring his character. It was strange, Callie thought.

"Torres?" Webber asked.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, uh," she continued, noticing as Arizona turned her attention to a number of photographs on his desk, facing his side. Callie couldn't see them – she only saw Arizona stare at the pictures intently. This woman was so strange at times, Callie thought. Had she really not seen Webber or his office before? She'd been in the hospital for so long.

"I was cleared for surgery today, sir. This morning," she explained. "But my name isn't on the board, I was wondering if you could assign some to me and inform the rest of the surgical staff, or whoever needs to know, anyway," she said.

Webber seemed surprised that she hadn't been assigned to anything and quickly made a note of it in his files. He flipped through his papers and Callie only stayed quiet, watching as Arizona peered over his shoulder, observing every action he took. It was unnerving for Callie, because Arizona seemed so real to her, yet she was not present to anyone else, especially the man in front of her, who noticed nothing awry.

Arizona finally caught her gaze, and for a moment, she almost seemed surprised to see Callie still sitting there – as if Callie hadn't been there at all. Arizona had been so caught in her observance of Webber and his surroundings that she forgot that Callie came in there with a goal. She suddenly smiled brightly at Callie and gave her a thumbs-up, then quickly made her way back next to her, peering at Webber now, from across the desk on Callie's side.

"All done. I've made a note of it," he told her, picking up his papers. "I'll have everyone informed at once," he said again, standing up from his desk.

Callie quickly stood up as well but stopped upon noticing Arizona's pose stiffen once again. She hastily moved aside for Webber as he made his way to the door of the office, as though he could run into her. She hadn't seemed intimidated by anyone else's presence, but she seemed to be almost shaken by Webber's.

The three exited the office and Webber nodded once again at Callie, seemingly proud of her.

"Well done, Torres," Webber told her. "Good to have you back."

"Thank you, Chief," Callie grinned, as he turned around and made his way down the hall.

As he was departing, Callie turned her attention to Arizona, who was watching Webber walk away.

"Can you not do that next time?" she asked. "It's so distracting."

But Arizona said nothing. Callie watched as she stared intensely at Richard's departing figure, her gaze almost distant.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," Arizona murmured. But then she caught Callie's stare and noticed her look of disbelief. "Authority figures have always scared me to the point of tears," she admitted.

Callie suddenly felt her heart leap again and grinned at Arizona's revelation of her secret fear. It almost seemed hilarious, because she seemed like an authority figure herself. Her strange behavior suddenly made sense to Callie, who recalled her stiffening pose when Webber got close to her.

"You're so damn cute," Callie declared.

###

"I've never worked with something like this before," Callie declared, noting the strange results on the scans. She stared intently at them, as did Richard Webber, the accompanying surgeon on the case. Callie scratched her chin and glanced over to the man next to her. He had really put trust into her on her first day back, she thought. He seemed overly confident in her abilities, perhaps because of the startling confidence she had been emitting the entire day. Callie couldn't help but think that she'd been put to the test by the chief. She was slightly intimidated by his suggestion that Callie should take the role as main surgeon on the case. He had come to her earlier, when she'd been staring at the boards, distraught by the fact that the board did not bear her name, and then he promptly erased his own name under the case that her eyes had been locked on and wrote hers. She only looked at him in disbelief as he smiled proudly and nodded his head. He had full faith in her abilities and now she was being put to the test.

So Callie was incredibly nervous.

She also felt Arizona's looming presence behind her shoulder, she could almost feel her delicate breathing tickle her ear. Arizona also seemed to be observing the scans just as thoroughly as the two.

"This is going to be a very complicated procedure," Webber insisted, pointing to a certain area in the scan which left them both bewildered.

"And extremely risky," Callie added.

"I've seen this before," Callie heard behind her. Arizona had been floating just behind her shoulder, intently observing the scans. She'd broken her silence just as Callie and Richard started to discuss the proper route to starting surgery.

Callie quickly glanced at Arizona, acknowledging her comment. She then looked over to Richard, who had been observing her with an intensity that made her nervous. She was definitely being put to the test.

"Well, Torres," he started. "This is your chance to show me what you've got."

Callie only nodded her head, quickly glancing at the floor before meeting his eyes.

"But sir, lead surgeon?" she asked.

"I have faith in you, Torres," he insisted. "I know you've done one of these in the past."

"Yes, but as an accompanying surgeon. And besides, that was by chance that we managed what we did. We salvaged. I don't think-" Callie explained.

"Nonsense. You'll do fine," he said. "And I'll be right by your side."

He promptly nodded at her and patted her on the shoulder before making his way out of the room. Callie only stood in silence as the door shut. She turned to watch Arizona who seemed to still be observing the scans.

"Where have you seen it?" Callie asked.

"In a journal," Arizona answered.

"That doesn't help me much," Callie groaned, running her fingers through her hair.

"You'll be fine, you've got the chief by your side," Arizona reassured her. She promptly landed her feet on the floor and turned over to look at Callie.

"And me."

"What?" Callie asked.

"I'll be by your side, too."

###

She sat in between two shelves in the medical library, piles of books stacked neatly on either side of her. She leaned back on the shelf behind her and ran her fingers through her hair. It was a gesture that indicated a stressful situation. She was very distressed. She had the thought that maybe she should get more coffee, but she'd been so deep into what she had been doing that it would probably just throw her off completely.

"God dammit," she murmured.

"It's okay," she heard in front of her. She looked to the direction of that soft reassuring voice and observed the blonde who sat across from her with her knees pulled to her chest.

"Easy for you to say," Callie retorted. "Can't you help me?"

"Do you _want_ people to see floating books?" Arizona questioned.

"There's barely anyone here."

"People wander. You don't want someone to walk down the aisle and see a book magically floating on its own and then-" Arizona started.

"Alright, alright. I get it."

Callie folded her legs together and stretched her arms out. Her whole body felt stiff due to her sitting hours upon hours surrounded by medical journals. However, it was the only way she could freely speak to Arizona, though in a hushed voice. She had sought out a quiet area in the library, hoping that Arizona could find the journal she'd seen the case in, but it was to no avail. It was _somewhere_ in the general area they'd been seated in, but Arizona couldn't properly recall and she couldn't flip through all of the books that Callie had been amassing. Callie had lifted up each title and briefly shown Arizona each one, but the woman did not seem to recall having read that specific case in that specific title she was holding up. She'd read many other cases in those journals, however.

Callie picked up another journal and lifted it, showing it to the blonde.

"Nope," Arizona said.

Callie started to flip through the journal but was stopped by Arizona. "Not that one, get another. You should read that one, though, it's amazing!"

"Have you read _all_ of these?" Callie asked in disbelief, throwing the book onto another pile which Arizona had claimed to have read.

"Most."

"Oh man," Callie groaned. "Get a life."

The brunette quickly realized what she had said and stopped to look at Arizona. But the ghost only watched her in amusement, and when met with Callie's horrified expression, she burst into a fit of giggles.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I get it, it's an expression," Arizona laughed.

"But…"

"It's funny. Especially considering the circumstances."

"Sorry, I'm just tired."

"Calm down, Callie," she said. "I'm not upset, I don't get upset over something trivial like that."

Callie picked up another book and watched Arizona, who now stood up to scan the shelves again. She wondered why her comment hadn't offended Arizona, though she was glad it hadn't. Was Arizona glad to be dead? Maybe Callie was thinking too much into it. It was a trivial remark. It didn't upset the ghost.

A part of that wonderment had struck Callie as odd.

Because, really… it would be so nice if Arizona was alive.

"Hey, you!" she heard.

She looked over to the direction of the voice and blinked at the library assistant standing at the end of the two shelves. He seemed to be incredibly angry.

"….Yeah?" she asked.

He stormed over to her and now stood in front of her, looking down at her while pointing to the various stacks of books and journals that lay scattered on the floor.

"I hope you plan on cleaning this mess up!" he exclaimed.

"I will, I-"

"Like, shelving them back into their proper place!" he lectured, dismissing what she had to say.

"I said I will, okay?" Callie said. Arizona walked back over to her and observed the fuming library assistant.

"I hate this guy," Arizona told her.

"Come with me," he said.

"Uh, I'm in the middle-"

"Just come with me!"

"Okay, jeez!" Callie said, standing up and following the young man to the back of the medical library. Arizona promptly followed behind the two. He quickly led her to the back shelves and Callie widened her eyes at the sight of stacks and stacks of books scattered on the floor, stretching down the entire aisle. They were all off the shelves.

"What the-" Callie started.

"This is what some disrespectful, ungrateful _surgeon_ does every night," he grumbled. " _Every_ night!"

"Look, it's not me."

"I _know_ it's not you. But you _surgeons_ should keep in mind that we also do a lot of work supporting you and your success. So you should treat us better!" he rambled, still fuming. His face seemed to be turning red.

"Okay, I understand," Callie said. "I'll clean up my mess, I promise."

"Once I find the god damned surgeon that does this every night, I'll report them to the chief," he continued, ignoring her reassurance.

"Uh."

"I don't know _who_ has keys to this library to cause this mess every night. We don't have extras, so I'm suspecting a janitor. But what janitor would go through a bunch of medical journals?"

Callie turned to Arizona now, since the man seemed to be lost in his own rantings. She narrowed her eyes and the blonde quickly averted her gaze, leaning on a shelf and lightly tapping her fingers against it.

It was her.

"I _swear_ this hospital is haunted," the man said. Callie looked over to him, almost sure that he was aware of Arizona's presence, but again, he was lost in his own rantings. He seemed to realize that Callie had been looking at him and quickly turned his attention to her again.

"Anyway, clean up your mess," he told her, before walking off.

Callie now turned her attention to Arizona, who walked down the messy aisle of books.

"It's you, isn't it?" Callie asked.

"What!?" Arizona exclaimed. "No!"

"Liar."

"Fine," she said. "It's me."

"You brat," Callie said. "You're gonna get someone in trouble."

Arizona fell on her knees and started rummaging through a stack of books as Callie walked over to her. The back aisle was desolate, so they were sure that no one would walk over and inquire. The place seemed to be notoriously avoided with good reason; it was a mess.

"Can you blame me?" Arizona asked. "I'm so engrossed in what I'm reading and then the journal I read always references a ton of others so I go and grab those and by the time I'm done, everything's a mess and it's morning so I don't have time to shelve them back in their proper places."

"But you have time in the night," Callie retorted. "You have the whole night."

"But then I want to read more!" Arizona said. "Why would I waste my time putting stuff back when I can just consume more?"

Callie smiled and joined Arizona in her efforts, but she mostly did nothing but observe the blonde who became determined to find the journal. The woman had her face scrunched up in concentration. Callie's heart felt like it was going to explode, she felt that strange floating sensation in her chest while watching the ghost.

"You… are," Callie started. Arizona stopped and looked up at her. " _So_ cute."

Arizona smiled, but said nothing. She looked back down at the stacks of books in front of her, flipping through them and throwing them on another pile that seemed to be forming. Callie felt her heart drop a little – Arizona seemed dismissive. She was smiling, but she said nothing. So Callie thought about lifting her hand to bring Arizona's face to hers so that she'd look into her eyes and maybe kiss her and then acknowledge her comment. She'd been planning to do that, she'd been determined, she decided – sketching the situation quickly in her head, and then she lifted her hand to do it but Arizona lifted a book up and accidently slapped her hand away.

"Found it!" she exclaimed.

###

Callie was frozen. Her hands were shaking and her line of sight seemed to be blurring. It was slightly blurry because she had briefly teared up due to the sweat burning her eyes. Beads of sweat were trickling down from her forehead and into her eyes. It was brief. But it had thrown her off for a bit. Because she was incredibly nervous.

Her head was pounding. She could hear the heart monitor going crazy and she could hear Webber in front of her – roaring, angry – but also trying to settle her. Trying hard. Because they had come so far and she made one wrong move and that was being too slow. She had to be fast, she had to be faster – but she had failed to do that, she had failed at exertion of her efforts and now she was frozen because the heart monitor was going crazy and Webber was barking at her and her head was pounding and her patient was probably going to die.

"Torres!" she heard in front of her – it was like a drawl, a groan.

Maybe she'd die too, because all her symptoms felt like a fucking heart attack.

" _Torres!_ " she heard again.

She fucked up.

" _Callie_."

She really fucked up.

" _Calliope!"_ she heard again.

It was a soft voice behind her. It was soft, incredibly soft – musical, almost. Harmonious. There was a tone about it that made her heart race in a different kind of way than it had been racing just then. It reminded her of a woman she wanted to kiss.

"Calliope."

No, it _was_ the woman she wanted to kiss.

It was Arizona.

"Calm down, Calliope," Arizona reassured her, whispering to her from behind. "Remember?" she asked. "Remember what you read?"

"BP's dropping!"

Callie stiffened, her hand suddenly shaking again.

"Doctor Torres!" she heard.

"Callie?" she heard Arizona ask. "Callie!" she called again.

She felt a soft touch on her shoulder, and felt cool fingertips graze her forehead. Her forehead didn't feel so hot anymore. That soothing touch had cooled her body.

"Callie, listen to me," Arizona said. "It's okay."

"It's okay."

Suddenly, that soothing voice sent a calm wave throughout her body – she stilled her hand and felt her shaking stop, bringing her attention back to the open body in front of her. She took a deep breath and proceeded, unsure of where to go, but tackling the problems that lay firstly in front of her.

She moved again.

And she moved fast.

As she did this, Arizona spoke again. "Good," she said. "Now, remember what you read?"

"I remember," Callie whispered, taking control of the situation. The heart monitor gradually steadied and Webber fell silent – the whole OR fell silent as they heeded Callie's demands and watched her salvage the looming disaster into a breathtaking miracle.

It was a blur to Callie – the first half, but the second half went smoothly and she could feel now, a sudden rush.

Her patient lived.

###

Callie stood at the sink, scrubbing her hands and feeling Arizona's steady gaze on her.

"Thank you, thank you," she murmured, rubbing her fingers together under the ice cold water that reminded her of Arizona's fingertips. Richard Webber entered the room, taking off his gown and tossing it away. He went to the sink and watched Callie.

"Torres," Webber said.

"Sir?" Callie asked. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, it was a risk," he said, stopping her. "An insane, high risk surgery," he said.

"That I _forced_ you to do," he admitted.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Stop it, Torres. I forced you to do it for a reason," he explained. "And it was a mess for a while but you did well," he continued. "So well, I'm impressed."

"Thank you, sir," Callie said in amazement.

"No one could have done that the way you did," he said. " _No one._ "

"Sir?"

"Torres, when you come in tomorrow morning, be sure to get a new badge, you're now an Orthopedic Attending."

###

"Congratulations are in order!" Arizona exclaimed, clinking her empty wine glass against Callie's own, which was filled with red wine.

Callie laughed as the blonde ghost grinned and plopped down next to her on the couch. "It's a shame you can't drink with me!"

Arizona only smiled and set her glass on the coffee table in front of them, then gently folding her hands on her lap.

"It wouldn't do anything," Arizona said, shrugging. "Don't waste it."

Callie only nodded her head and took a sip of the red liquid, glancing at Arizona, who only seemed to watch her with curiosity.

"What?"

"I miss getting drunk," she said.

"It's fun. Did you do it often?"

Arizona leaned back on the couch and narrowed her eyes, giving Callie something of a devilish grin. It seemed very suggestive. "Maybe," she answered.

Callie thought about inquiring – she wondered what it was like, thinking about how Arizona would act if drunk – it was an amusing thought, but she quickly dismissed it.

"Thanks for your help in surgery today," Callie said. "I didn't think you'd be so caught up with medical procedures."

"It was all you."

"I was nervous. I thought maybe it was a punishment," she admitted.

"Richard's not the type of guy to do that," Arizona insisted.

"Richard? You're calling him Richard now?" Callie asked in disbelief.

"It helps bring down the intimidation factor when you're on a first name basis."

"Yeah," Callie laughed. "I'm sure he calls you Arizona, too."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Arizona joked.

They shared a laugh and quickly quieted down. Callie fell silent and fumbled with her glass, tracing the rim with her index finger.

"But seriously, thank you. You calmed me down. A lot."

"I'm glad," Arizona said. "You didn't even need those journals."

"I did for that last part," Callie insisted. "You're amazing, reading all those journals."

Arizona grinned, clearly taking pride in her seemingly depthless medical knowledge. "Well, I don't really have anything else going for me."

"Really?" Callie asked.

"Yeah, so I read medical journals," Arizona explained.

Callie nodded her head and took another sip of her wine. She then set the glass down on the coffee table and met Arizona's gaze.

"I think you do," Callie said.

"Hmm?"

"I think you do have a lot going for you," she said, moving closer to her on the couch. She was close now and the blonde sat up properly and drew closer to her. Callie brought her hand up to Arizona's face and gently ran the tip of her thumb along her cheek. For a moment, it seemed to Callie that Arizona's breath caught in her throat. It was something of a hushed, yet startled gasp, Callie couldn't quite tell. But she noticed a look in the ghost's eyes that made her continue.

"If only people could see you, you'd know," Callie started.

"I'd… know what?" Arizona asked, softly. Callie knew that Arizona could stop and dismiss her, the way she had in the library. But she didn't.

She didn't.

"That you'd have people lining up for you," Callie declared.

Arizona laughed softly, closing her eyes for a moment. She opened them again and simply watched Callie. They sat like that, for just a moment, and then Callie brought her thumb from Arizona's cheek and gently ran it across her bottom lip. The blonde apparition blinked as Callie suddenly pulled her hand away from her face and back onto her own lap.

Callie shifted her gaze to her hand on her lap. She lifted it in front of her and observed it as Arizona watched on. She then looked back over to her.

"Do you feel my touch?" Callie asked, hesitantly.

"I do," she said. "It feels… good," Arizona said.

She sat up and moved closer to Callie and picked up her hand and brought it to her face again.

"All the time, it feels good."

Callie brought her other hand to Arizona's face and pulled her in, bringing her lips close to her own. Their lips met softly – gently, it almost felt like a graze. It was welcoming, but also hesitant.

"Do you… feel me?" Callie asked.

"I do," Arizona murmured, her breath hot against Callie's lips. "You feel good."

Callie didn't feel the hesitation this time, neither of them did, it seemed. The kiss was passionate this time, lips met each other with force, with yearning – the kiss was soft and languid.

"It feels good being around you," Arizona whispered, as Callie pulled away to look at her.

"I'm glad."

This time, Arizona brought her arms around Callie's neck and pulled her in for another kiss. Startled, the brunette's hands fell to the other woman's waist. Callie felt a tongue graze her lip, seeking entrance – not forcefully, yet not hesitantly. Callie heard herself moan as she met the blonde's tongue, she felt her linger and explore her mouth. She suddenly felt enveloped.

She pulled away slightly and Arizona seemed startled, surprised that Callie would stop the kiss. But her expression quickly changed as she watched Callie catch her breath and watch her. Callie guessed she didn't need to breathe. She smiled and attempted to pull Arizona in for another kiss, but was startled when the woman pulled away and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her back onto the couch.

Arizona hovered above Callie on all-fours, watching her intently – her blue eyes glowing with a different kind of light that Callie hadn't seen before.

"Tell me, Callie," Arizona whispered, softly. "What were you dreaming of this morning?"

"Huh?"

"I felt lust emanating from you," she said, smiling as Callie's eyes grew darker. "Lust and passion and…"

"And?"

"And… and I'm not sure what else."

Callie brought her arms around Arizona's neck and pulled her down to meet her lips.

"I was dreaming of you," Callie murmured, before kissing her again.

They laid on the couch, kissing with fervor – Callie felt herself waiting for this moment for a long time. Arizona slightly drew back away from her and tugged at her shoulders, then peeling off Callie's shirt and tossing it beside the couch. Her eyes quickly fell to Callie's bra-clad chest.

"You looked at me that way earlier, too," Callie said, huskily. Her voice was low now, almost raspy. She watched as Arizona hesitantly brought her eyes back to Callie's face, almost confused.

"What?" she murmured, as if she hadn't heard her at all.

"You looked at my chest earlier… in the same way."

"I did," Arizona affirmed. "I was thinking…" she said, reaching her arms behind Callie to unclasp the bra. She brought her lips to Callie's again, slipping her tongue into her mouth teasingly. The clasp of the bra opened with a pop and Arizona quickly slipped it off of her shoulders. "…about how much I wanted to see what was underneath."

Callie giggled, but her laugh quickly transitioned into a moan when Arizona latched her mouth on a breast, placing her hand roughly on Callie's other breast. Callie was surprised at the way Arizona licked her breasts, almost claiming them as her own as she bit down on her nipple, gently pulling it with her teeth and lips, then licking them to ease the slight pain. She sucked each nipple into her mouth, refusing to go down even when Callie tangled her fingers into the blonde's hair, urging her downwards.

And when Arizona finally traced her tongue down Callie's body, the brunette recalled the hesitancy from earlier. She felt herself unraveling as Arizona popped open her jeans and slipped them off, throwing them beside her. The blonde briefly fell on her knees, opening Callie's legs and wrapping them around her waist before leaning over her again.

"What?" Arizona asked, pressing her forehead against Callie's.

"Wha, what?" Callie gasped, feeling Arizona's cool fingertips trace the skin around her navel.

"Are you nervous?" Arizona whispered, planting light kisses on her jaw. "Don't be nervous."

"I'm not, I'm not," Callie murmured. "I want you."

She felt those cool fingertips travel downward and thumb at the fabric of her underwear.

"Just," Callie started to say. "…Are you sure?"

"What?" Arizona whispered.

"Do you want _me?_ " Callie asked her. And suddenly, Arizona brought her hands to Callie's face and gently placed them on her cheeks, tracing her cool fingertips on her skin.

"I want you," Arizona declared. "I'm positive that I do."

"How positive?"

"I've never been more positive in my life-" Arizona faltered on her words, and thought briefly about the words, while grazing her thumbs against Callie's cheeks.

"Well, afterlife. Or death," she said. "Whatever."

To this, Callie laughed. Arizona brought her hands back to Callie's waist, and hooked her thumbs on her underwear, quickly slipping them off of her legs and throwing them to the side.

"It's like you're the one haunting me, Callie."

When Arizona slipped into her, she felt a strong sensation in her chest, unsure of what it was. She felt her thrust lightly, felt those cool fingertips meet her own heat and then she was sure that Arizona was what she wanted. She thrusted gently, all the while, watching Callie, who wrapped her arms around the blonde's neck. She tangled her fingers in her hair as Arizona's thrusts grew stronger, she felt herself enveloped – she felt her walls enveloping Arizona's fingers, she felt herself coming with the sensations.

She wrapped her legs around Arizona's waist – briefly noting that the blonde was still fully clothed and she was about to say something, but was cut off when she felt Arizona curl her fingers and push deeper.

"God," Callie gasped. "I'm gonna," she murmured, her breath catching in her throat, her gasps growing wilder and staccato.

"Come then," Arizona whispered, her breath hot against Callie's ear. "Come for me."

Arizona pushed deeper and all Callie could hear was her own startled gasps, Arizona's heavy breathing against her ear, and the delicious sound of Arizona's fingers pumping wildly into her. She felt herself coming and wrapped arms and legs tightly around Arizona as her body froze up in ecstasy.

When it was over, she loosened her grip and fell back onto the couch. Arizona rested her forehead against Callie's shoulder and listened intently to her ragged breathing. She gently slipped out of her and brought her drenched fingers to her lips, licking them clean.

"Mmm," Arizona murmured.

"I thought," Callie gasped, her breath still short. "I thought you couldn't taste anything."

"I can taste you," Arizona murmured, wrapping her arms around Callie's neck. She kissed the exposed skin, lightly tracing her tongue along Callie's jaw before landing a quick peck on her lips.

"And it's amazing."

 


	6. Chapter 6

She snuck through the back alley, her breath short and ragged. She exhaled and inhaled in short bursts which made it seem as though her lungs were enflamed. She almost tripped, her head was so hazy and light, as though someone had just struck her. She shut the metal door roughly, struggling with herself to pull the heavy structure closed. It finally shut with a slam, and she stumbled back due to the force.

"Shit," she grumbled. She turned around now, and ran down from the alley way and into the streets. Her eyes were blurry and the streetlights seemed to blind her momentarily. She rubbed her eyes, forgetting about the mascara she had applied earlier.

She scanned the streets now, in silence. The streets were completely silent aside from the resounding boom that came from inside the building she had just exited. She heard a loud honk and felt her body jump in response, breaking the silence.

She looked over to the direction in which the sound came from and noticed a white car sitting at the end of the street. She promptly ran over to it and entered through the passenger's side in the front.

"Oh, thank god," she cried, shutting the door to her car and slumping in her seat.

"Fuck, Arizona," she heard.

"Thanks, Richard," she responded, as the man next to her quickly ignited the engine to the car. He quickly shifted it to drive.

Arizona had said nothing else, she instead looked outside of the window in silence, aware that the man next to her was furious.

"You're not a fucking child," he said.

"Alright," she replied.

"Don't ' _alright_ ' me, Arizona."

"Sorry."

There was a moment of silence before he said, "Please don't tell me you're high."

"I'm not," she said, as he stopped at a traffic light. He looked over to her.

"Are you high?"

Arizona sighed heavily and slapped her hand on the dashboard.

"I'm not fucking high, okay?" she yelled. "I just had a few drinks. What kind of stupid doctor would get high?"

"I don't know, Arizona," he retorted. "What kind of stupid doctor would go to an illegal party for drug addicts?"

"Look, I-"

"Tim's death doesn't give you the excuse to act like a fucking idiot."

"Fuck you," she said. "Let me off here."

"Arizona-"

"Let me off here!"

Richard said nothing and continued to drive down the desolate streets, much to the disdain of Arizona, who was now furious.

"Richard!" she exclaimed. "Richard, will you just let me off here!?"

"No," he said, and then Arizona began to nudge the door, unlocking it quickly. "No!" he said again, promptly hitting the brake. Arizona fell slightly forward, almost hitting her head on the dashboard.

"What the hell!" she yelled.

"Put your fucking seatbelt on and shut up."

"I don't-"

"This is _my_ car, not yours. You're not the driver. Now put your damn seatbelt _on!_ "

"Just let me get out and it won't be a problem," she said, opening the door to the car.

Richard quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to her side, shutting the door back with force.

"Will you listen to me?" he asked, his voice softer now. "Will you please just listen?"

Arizona sat silently, staring straight ahead of her – she felt suddenly defeated. Her head hurt and her body ached and she felt very tired. She leaned back in the seat as Richard parked to the curb and shut the engine off.

"Can I smoke?" she asked.

"No, Adele will kill me, you know that," he said. "She'll think it's Ellis."

"Ellis doesn't smoke, just tell her it was me."

"Then she'd just get more worried."

"Worried?" Arizona asked, looking over at him. "Worried about what?"

"Worried about you, Arizona."

"Why is she worried about _me_?"

"Because of Tim."

"Tim is dead."

"That's exactly it," he said. "And you don't smoke. You only smoke _those_ cigarettes."

It was silent again as Arizona scrunched her face in confusion. She peered ahead of her again, her mind blank.

"They're Tim's, that's why I smoke them," she replied.

"I know."

"And I need," she started. "And I need Nick not to ruin his life."

"Why?"

"Because Tim wouldn't want that. Because he has too much to lose."

"Like what?"

"Like, a lot. A lot. The way Tim wrote about him in his letters, I just can't leave him like that. I can't."

"Arizona," Richard said. " _You're_ the one that has too much to lose. You're a doctor, you've got credentials. You can't mix yourself in that crowd."

"I'm just trying to find Nick."

"Let him ruin his own life, this is yours. It's yours Arizona, and you need to let go."

"Richard-"

"Just let go."

"But I-"

"Just let Tim go."

###

She cried in Callie's arms when that child died. Only because she hadn't understood anything about that child's life or her own – or really anything about life – like why it was so brief and why people had to die.

She never dreamed much. Not much. Because ghosts never had dreams. But often times, she'd find herself falling into a daydream. She recalled moments of her life with such vividness that it almost seemed within arm's reach, like it was only yesterday. Her yesterdays were long gone, but when she had those moments when her life came back to her, when she remembered what her life was like – she'd fall into a daydream. And she called it a trance. Because everything seemed to wash away. The world kept revolving, the world kept going, but she sat still and fell into her dream – her, as she coined it, trance.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Callie laughed into her pillow, feeling cool fingertips scurry across her back in a pleasant rush. She felt soft lips meet the back of her neck, and she felt herself being nudged around and watched.

She shifted herself so that she was laying on her back, and then she felt Arizona move herself so that she was hovering just above her. The blonde only smiled and then leaned over to kiss her softly.

It had been a while since Callie had become an Orthopedic Attending. She set her foot in the right direction after that successful surgery with Webber. So she had been doing well and scoring many surgeries. She also ventured to the medical library to explore with Arizona, who never _did_ clean up the mess she often left each night. There hadn't been more stacks of books, though, because Arizona spent most of her nights with Callie now.

Arizona would show her the especially interesting medical journals and together, they would discuss its values and impact. To Callie's ever-growing surprise, Arizona had been very caught up with modern medical advances and the methodologies behind it – but being a ghost, she had no way to practice them nor did she understand the technology behind them.

So Callie helped her with that, showing her how to use other applications on her phone for research and entertainment. Arizona was especially thrilled to finally learn the practice behind much of what she had been reading in those journals, but she seemed more enthralled with the prospect of Youtube. And so, Callie left her to that when faced with long surgeries.

Now, Arizona hovered over her and kissed her with much fervor – it had become a common and exceptionally pleasing way of waking up for the past few days. But something kept Callie cautious and that was Arizona's own caution. She was exceptionally dominant. And despite wanting to feel and touch Arizona feverishly, Callie withdrew herself and stayed simply touching what skin she could or lacing her fingers around cascading blonde strands of hair that fell to her shoulders or tickled her face.

"Mmm," Callie murmured. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Arizona replied. She smiled brightly and kissed Callie on her forehead, as the latter sleepily smiled back at her. "Good dream?"

"I don't remember," Callie said, wrapping her arms around the blonde so as to let her fall on top of her. Arizona acquiesced and laid on her, placing her head on her chest. "Good night?" Callie asked.

"Mmm, I read at the hospital," she said. "And I put some books back on the shelves if that makes you happy."

"It does," Callie lied. "Not really."

Arizona giggled softly against her chest and Callie felt her hot breath tickle her skin. She ran her fingers through blonde hair and felt her heart rate begin to speed up once again.

"You, uh," Callie started. Arizona responded by looking up at her with inquiring eyes. "You should take off your clothes."

"What?" Arizona asked, surprised.

"Well, I mean," Callie said. "You always have your clothes on. And I don't," she continued. "You can feel me, can't you?"

"I can," Arizona said, hesitantly.

"I haven't… seen you naked yet," Callie murmured, suddenly embarrassed by her bold comment.

"I didn't realize that you wanted to," Arizona laughed, suddenly getting up and straddling Callie's hips, her knees on either side of her body. She smiled at Callie's startled expression and peeled off her top, tossing it aside.

"Why," Callie started to say, her hands itching to touch the newly exposed skin. "Why are you so," she murmured, as Arizona leaned down to kiss her. Arizona briefly silenced her with her lips before letting her speak again.

"So what?" Arizona asked.

"So human."

Callie didn't contemplate on whether her comment would hurt Arizona and she realized that maybe she shouldn't have said it, but she couldn't help but wonder. She couldn't help but wonder why she could feel Arizona so thoroughly – every sensation. Callie could feel it all against her body, she could feel her heart racing against her own when their chests were pressed together, and even through Arizona's clothes, she could feel her excessive heart rate. She could hear when her breathing hitched, when she gasped after hearing Callie come, when she sighed softly – she could feel the hot breath tickle her skin. She could feel Arizona's soft lips graze against her own, she could see how bruised they became after several passionate kisses. She couldn't help but wonder _why_.

The ghost's expression didn't change, she did not seem offended at all.

"Because I _was_ human. I still am," she explained. "But I never felt that way, not once... not once when I realized I could walk through another human being, only to send chills down their body, not once did I feel human," she said.

Callie wrapped her arms around Arizona's slender back and traced her fingers along the smooth, newly exposed skin. She traced the bones on her back, feeling them under her fingers as she listened.

"I retained my human form, I retained everything about myself. But I still didn't feel human at all. I couldn't touch people, only objects. I could only frighten, I realized. That was my only ability. To scare. Like a ghost. Fitting, huh?" she laughed.

"No one saw me, no one heard me," she said. "But then I met you. And that all changed."

Arizona brought her hands to Callie's face and traced her cheeks with the tip of her thumbs. "Because you saw me," she said, moving her hand to pull Callie's own from her back. She brought that hand to her chest. "And you heard me." She brought Callie's hand down to her pants, allowing the woman to slip inside of them. "And you felt me."

Callie slipped her hands inside the fabric and promptly into Arizona's underwear where she was immediately met with soft, wet heat.

"And you're wet," Callie finished. "Wow."

Arizona suddenly looked embarrassed, prompting Callie to grab onto her hips and flip them over on the bed.

"I can do the rest," Callie smiled, slipping Arizona's pants off.

###

Callie had never felt better nor more confident in her abilities as a surgeon, and now, as a lover. Arizona writhing under her had started a new storm in her chest – she had never witnessed anything so sexy before.

For a moment, she determined that the relationship was strange – it was different. Arizona wasn't a girlfriend and no one else could see her. How things would change if people could, she thought. Callie knew she cared for the ghost in a way that seemed to be immeasurable, and she knew that Arizona obviously cared for her, as well.

Callie suddenly wondered, was this continuous? She liked what she had with the ghost, whatever that had been, but how long was it to last? Arizona was dead but Callie was alive. Callie had her life to worry about, her future. She planned a lot in her future. Something that a dead woman could probably not give her.

Callie stopped in her tracks, she'd made it to the Pediatrics department, but that thought had suddenly made her stop in her tracks. And as if on cue, Arizona skated down the hallway, with her bright smile and curious eyes (Callie was sure the woman sensed her feeling) peering at Callie. She stopped with a _clack_ in front of her, grinning.

Callie stared at her now, noting the doctors and nurses walking down the hall, turning when Callie would not move. They looked at her curiously, but Callie simply kept her eyes on Arizona, who started to worry.

"Callie?" Arizona asked.

Immediately, Callie heard, "Doctor Torres!"

Her silence was broken by a man behind her, a rather short man with black hair and plump glasses. She looked to his lab coat, and embroidered was the name "Donald Harris" – she immediately noted the "Head of Pediatrics" tag on his coat.

"Oh, Doctor Harris," Callie said.

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" he exclaimed, reaching his hand out for her to shake. She took it and shook his hand, feeling a little strange because his coat bore the same departmental rank as Arizona's. But of course, he was the real one.

"Same here," Callie murmured.

"So, our patient is just down the hall. I presume that's where you were heading?" he inquired.

"Of course."

"Perfect, have you read the details?" he asked her.

"I have."

"Let's go then," he told her, immediately walking down the hall. Callie glanced to Arizona, giving her an apologetic smile. The blonde only shrugged and followed them now, down the hall.

They entered the patient's room to find a small boy settled in the hospital bed, along with a young couple, eyeing them cautiously. They seemed relieved by the doctors' presence. The boy did not glance up at the doctors, only at his parents.

And though Doctor Harris began his explanation on the child's condition and the extensive risks, Callie noted the boy glancing at each of them. His eyes fell to Harris, but then he looked over at Callie. And Callie noticed his gaze lingering to window, where Arizona now stood, looking out of the window. He looked back at Callie now, as she began to talk – urging the parents to reconsider the surgery.

But they refused. Doctor Harris asked to speak with them outside, which they hesitantly agreed to. As Callie began to follow him, she was stopped by the boy's voice. "Can you guys stay?" he asked her.

She looked over to Harris, who only nodded at her. "Sure, I'll stay," Callie told him, now allowing Harris to usher the parents outside of the room.

"So, Jimmy, huh?" Callie asked. "Is that short for something?"

"No…" he said, looking over to the window again. "How come she didn't say hi?"

"Huh?" Callie asked, looking over to Arizona now, who finally looked at the boy.

"What?" Arizona asked.

"I like your shoes," he told her. "I wanted heelys but my parents never got me any. They said I didn't need it cause it's dangerous and I shouldn't be walking around so much," he explained.

Arizona looked startled, completely baffled. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She looked back over to Callie, but Callie said nothing, either. She was as startled as Arizona was.

"You can see her?" Callie asked him.

"Huh?" Jimmy asked.

"That's Doctor Robbins," Callie said, pointing to Arizona. "You can see Doctor Robbins?" she asked.

"Is this a game?" Jimmy asked, innocently.

"Uh."

"Can I play too?"

But they were all silenced by Harris and Jimmy's parents, entering the room again. Callie looked over to the parents, the two seemed distraught and there were tear stains on their cheeks, indicating that they had been crying. Harris looked at Callie, also saddened by whatever they had been discussing.

"Again, I'll ask this again," he started. "Are you sure you want to do the surgery?" Harris asked.

They looked to each other and nodded, before telling him yes.

###

"He saw me, Callie!" Arizona exclaimed, unable to sit still on the bed. "He _saw_ me!"

"I know, it's crazy," Callie replied. "How did he see you?"

"I don't know, I don't _know_! I remember him, he came in last year. But nothing like this happened," Arizona said. "I can't believe it, he actually saw me."

"I'm glad he did," Callie said, immediately trapping the blonde in an embrace before falling onto the bed with her in her arms. "I need a nap," Callie murmured. Though she had been planning to research more on the upcoming surgery, Arizona's excitement could not be quelled, thus, she had been urged into an on-call room.

"I wanna go talk to him."

"I know you do, Arizona," Callie said. "Me too, but his parents are gonna be there all day. We can go see him tonight," she explained, content just to cuddle with the woman in her arms. She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms tight around Arizona's body, in attempt to settle the excited woman. She seemed to finally settle in Callie's arms, softly kissing her neck.

"Maybe it's because I met you that other people are starting to see me?" Arizona asked in a small, but hopeful voice.

Callie considered her words for a moment, before saying, "I don't know, but I hope so."

"His surgery," Arizona started. "Are you really going to do it?"

"It's what his parents want," Callie explained.

"There's no way he'll survi-"

"I know."

"I've seen journals of it," Arizona explained. "Lots of them. Are you going to research?"

"I will."

"Let's go see him."

"Tonight, Arizona."

###

The complications of the impending surgery had only left Callie feeling distraught and rather hopeless. The entire thing seemed hopeless, and it depressed her even more due to Arizona's excitement. Harris and Callie only had a few days to prepare, but the man didn't seem to be much concerned, he already withdrew himself to the child's death and the parents', as he claimed it, stupidity.

His attitude left Callie angry – she thought that he shouldn't have been appointed head of Pediatrics, or even a _surgeon_ for that matter, and she thought that Webber had made a poor choice in appointing him as such. She briefly discussed the matter with Webber, who only seemed to shrug her off. Arizona was furious, as she had been standing behind Callie during their discussion – she was furious at Webber's attitude, outraged that he would even be so dismissive, as if it wasn't in his character to do so.

As for the child himself, Callie hadn't gotten to know him much. She'd barely had time to actually visit and talk with him – though she certainly cared. She cared an exceptional amount for her patients, something Arizona once noted in the past week – saying that she had _loved_ that about Callie, the fact that she cared so much.

And Callie did care – therefore, she buried herself into research even though Pediatrics was not her field and she was only a consult on the case. She had spoken to other Pediatric surgeons who only seemed to give dismal comments and advice, furthering the suggestion that it was hopeless. Callie was doing her very best to get help, to switch surgeons, to find different methods – anything that would save the child's life or extend his life expectancy a little longer.

However defeated she felt, she visited the child at least once a night – always finding Arizona there next to him, talking to him or playing a video game with him, though it seemed that he was teaching _her_ how to play.

Callie found the two in the room, talking about nothing in particular. She checked his vitals and was looking over his chart, listening to the conversation between them.

"How come no one sees you?" the child asked, watching Arizona with wide, curious eyes.

"I don't know," Arizona answered. "I don't know why you're seeing me, Jimmy."

"I've seen you before, though," Arizona continued. "About a year ago, I visited your room, but you couldn't see me. Now you can, though."

"Am I special?" he asked her.

Callie listened, noting the brief silence that Arizona let by. She had no idea and she was sure that Arizona had no idea either. But the child had clearly become special to her. "You are," she smiled.

Arizona hadn't been with Callie most nights anymore – in fact, they barely had time alone. Arizona spent most of her nights in Jimmy's room, talking to him until he fell asleep and then going to the medical library to read more about his condition and everything that revolved around that. Then, when Callie would see her, Arizona would ask for her to come to the medical library wherein Callie would then be met with stacks of journals relating to the child's surgery.

Arizona had grown attached to the child, Callie discovered. It seemed Arizona suddenly had an idea – or something of the sort, but a thought suddenly struck her and she immediately stood up.

"Where are you going?" Jimmy asked her.

"I just need to read something, I'll be _right_ back," Arizona assured him. "Callie will stay with you in the meantime."

"Can't you stay a little longer?" the boy asked, glancing at Callie hesitantly. It seemed he wasn't ready to open up to a new stranger after talking so much with Arizona.

"I'll be right back, I promise," Arizona said. "Callie is fun!" she said, before hurrying out of the room.

The room was immediately met with silence as the boy only looked at Callie, who looked back at her chart. She was finished with examining it and she wasn't sure what to do.

"So," she started. "Isn't Arizona the coolest ghost you've ever met?" she joked.

"She's a ghost?" Jimmy asked. "I thought ghosts didn't exist."

Callie wasn't sure how to respond, she didn't know that Arizona hadn't told the boy she was a ghost. He was old enough to understand the prospect of a ghost but young enough to not understand everything behind it, it seemed to Callie.

"Ooh, okay," he started. "That's why no one can see her."

"Right," Callie said.

"So does seeing a ghost mean I'm gonna die?" the child asked Callie.

Callie unintentionally dropped her chart, her eyes widened at the thought. She quickly picked it up and the boy couldn't help but notice her uncertainty.

"Of course not," Callie said.

The boy didn't seem to believe her, though. "Are you gonna die, too?" he asked her. "How come you see her?"

"I'm not going to die, Jimmy," Callie said. "And neither are you."

###

Despite her words of reassurance and despite her extensive research and Arizona desperately yelling into her ear in the OR, the boy died.

The flat line seemed to resound in her ears – Harris quickly called the time of death and walked out of the OR. And Callie's arms only dropped to her sides. She didn't feel Arizona's presence behind her anymore, the ghost had vanished. She stood there for a moment and looked at the dead child in front of her, briefly feeling her eyes well up.

After scrubbing out, she found herself walking in the direction of the now empty hospital room. And there, she found Arizona standing there, looking outside of the window with that faraway gaze she couldn't quite name.

"Arizona," Callie said from the doorway.

"You did good, Callie," Arizona said. "You worked hard. You always do. You worked really hard. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, Arizona."

"No, I am," Arizona said, smiling sadly. She turned to Callie now and looked at her from the window. Her eyes seemed to gloss over. "He's dead now."

Callie said nothing, but watched as Arizona fumbled with her hands, confused by her own emotions.

"How come I can't see him?" Arizona asked.

"What?"

"How come I can't see him?" she asked. "If he's dead, why can't _I_ see him?"

"Why did he only see me when he was about to die?" she asked, her voice changing tone. "Not before, not after… only when he was _about_ to die. Not when he was healthy, not when he died… only at that stupid moment when you're sort of just stuck between the two."

Callie watched her silently, shutting the door behind her. She locked it now, and stood there, watching Arizona.

"Isn't it funny?" Arizona laughed, though it came out in a choked cry. "Isn't it strange? Sad, even? I don't know."

"Arizona?" Callie asked.

"I feel like a stranger to my own life."

Callie said nothing, she _could_ say nothing. What could one possibly say to that? She only stood there and watched Arizona, who started to cry – the first time, it seemed, she started to cry.

"But this isn't a life," Arizona cried, covering her hands with her face.

"This isn't a life," she repeated.

"Arizona…"

"Callie, I want to go," she said, desperately.

"You want to go?" Callie asked, softly.

"I want to go, sometimes I want to go, just leave, go somewhere, but I don't know where," she cried. "Where can I go?"

"Arizona…"

"I'm just stuck here!"

"You're not stuck…" Callie murmured, walking over to her now. She took her in her arms, but the blonde only pushed her away.

"I'm sorry, I can't."

"Arizona?"

"I need to," she started, her cries obscuring her speech. "I need to go and think for a while."

"Then let's go," Callie said.

"Alone, Callie," she said. "Alone."

###

Callie opened the door to her apartment, expecting to see Arizona seated on the couch, waiting for her. Her disappearance earlier left Callie nervous; it was an incredibly nerve-wracking day. The ghost needed space to think on her own, to distinguish what she was feeling. She needed to get away, as she explained, and so she had – but Callie had expected to see her sitting on the couch when she returned.

But in the place Callie expected to see her, there sat Cristina Yang, flipping through the same journals she had been reading for most of her downtime.

"Hey…" Callie greeted, slipping off her shoes and closing the door behind her.

"Oh, hey."

"Uh," Callie started, briefly scanning the room for any trace of Arizona. But she wasn't there. "What's up? Work today?" she asked.

"No, I'm on-call, though."

Callie walked over to the couch and briefly examined the woman who seemed to take no notice of her strange attitude. Callie stood there in silence while Cristina flipped another page to the journal.

"Heard about the kid," Cristina said, her eyes never leaving the page. "Sorry."

"Yeah," Callie murmured, though really – the mentioning of the child had struck a chord. She was saddened by the child's death – but even moreso by Arizona's response to the child's death. It was bewildering.

"There was no way you could have saved him," she said. "That was the last resort."

"Yeah," Callie said. "His parents wanted it."

"They're stupid," Cristina said. "They should have just let him live out the rest of his life."

"There's no judgment here, Cristina. They were looking for a possibility to have more time. When you're a parent, you don't give up."

"Right," Cristina said, shutting the book. She walked over to the window and tossed it in the box, then walking to the direction of her room.

"Well, sorry," she said, before shutting the door behind her.

"Uh huh," Callie murmured, defeated. She sat on the couch now and laid back, staring up at the ceiling. But perhaps driven by Cristina's last words, she walked over to her room and entered it. She discovered Arizona curled up on her bed, wearing her oversized pajamas. Callie quickly shut the door behind her and walked over to the bed.

"My pajamas?" Callie asked.

"Mhm," Arizona murmured, burying her head into Callie's pillow, face first.

"What if Cristina entered my room?" Callie asked. "Those aren't yours, Arizona," she said, in an attempt to banter with the ghost.

"I just," Arizona started. "I just wanted to feel enveloped by you," she explained. "Surrounded."

Callie felt a rush from her words, her heart sped up – but it was not desire that overtook her, only passion. Passion for this woman.

"Everything smells like you here," Arizona said. "And I like it."

"You could have just come to me."

"It's not enough," Arizona said. "I need to touch you."

Callie moved in closer to her and laid next to her, gently pulling her closer. Arizona moved in closer, her body pressed against Callie's own. She brought her hand up to Callie's chest, just above her heart, and then gripped the fabric of her shirt tightly.

"I need to know that you're there, I need to feel you," she said. "I need to know that _I'm_ here, that I'm real."

"You are," Callie said. "You are."

"I need you to know that, Callie," Arizona said, her eyes quickly glossing over. "You're the only thing that makes me real."

"Arizona…" Callie murmured, gently rubbing her back as she began to cry against her chest. They stayed like that for a while, with Callie gently rubbing Arizona's back as she sobbed against her chest. Callie did not use her words to press her – she remained silent, believing that that was what the other woman wanted. But suddenly, Arizona grew still in her arms.

All at once, the sobbing stopped – the cries faltered and she simply grew still. Callie kept rubbing her back, but did not feel Arizona's breath against her clothed chest anymore – she did not feel the wetness of the tears staining her shirt. She didn't feel anything – just the stillness of Arizona against her body.

"Arizona?" Callie asked.

She was only met with dead silence. She wondered if the woman had fallen asleep for just a moment, but quickly recalled that Arizona never slept. She pulled away from her so as to look at her face. She was met with cloudy blue eyes peering at nothing in particular. Lifeless eyes.

"…Arizona?" Callie called again, brushing her hair back.

She observed her face – Arizona wore a blank expression, her eyes were half-closed, and the striking blue was gone, it was only a dull blue she saw now. There was no glow to her eyes as there always was. There was nothing.

"Arizona!?" Callie asked again, shaking her shoulders. Arizona did not respond, it was as though Callie had been shaking a doll – something like a lifeless corpse. It startled her. She shook her harder this time, but Arizona did not blink, she did not breathe or say anything.

It was only a moment. She shook her again and was ready to jump out of bed and do something, anything – but then Arizona blinked. A single blink and the color in her eyes were back – that marvelous blue had returned, along with the glow of life. She blinked again as Callie watched her, this time shaking her gently.

"Arizona?" she whispered.

"…Callie?" Arizona asked.

"Are you okay?" Callie asked her, worried.

"I sense panic from you," Arizona said, softly.

"Because you weren't responding," Callie said. "It was almost like you," she continued. "Like you died."

"Oh," Arizona murmured. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Are you okay?" Callie asked her, gently rubbing her shoulders. "What happened?"

"That was," Arizona started. "That was a trance."

"A trance?"

"I went somewhere."

"What?"

"Remember when I told you that I daydream?" she asked. "It was sort of like that."

"What did you daydream about?"

Arizona laughed softly, moving closer to Callie on the bed. "Richard Webber in a car."

"Seriously?" Callie asked.

"Seriously."

"I was worried and you were having a daydream about the chief?"

"And I was next to him," Arizona continued. "And he was yelling at me."

Callie laughed softly and ran her fingers through Arizona's hair, gently pulling her closer.

"Are you _that_ afraid of him?" she questioned. "He's not that scary."

"He can be," Arizona said. Callie only nodded and waited for her to continue.

"That trance taught me something, though."

"What?" Callie asked, as the blonde nestled her way into her arms and laid her head comfortably on her chest.

"I might just have to let go," Arizona said. "And embrace the now."

Callie felt her heart leap in her chest. Something about the way Arizona had said that made her feel strange. And sensing her feelings, Arizona began to speak.

"Why are you uncertain?" Arizona asked, looking up at Callie.

"I don't know."

"Callie?"

"I, uh," she said. "What do you mean 'let go?'"

"Someone once told me to let go," she explained. "Let go of the past, let go of the things we can't or couldn't change. That's what I need to do."

"…Oh," Callie murmured. "I'm sorry about Jimmy, I'm sorry I couldn't save him."

"There are some things we can't change, Callie."

Callie nodded and held Arizona tighter, worrying about her words – worried for the way she suddenly seemed dismissive. There _were_ some things that couldn't be changed. Callie couldn't save that child.

And Callie couldn't bring Arizona back to life. She thought back to just moments ago, where the ghost seemed to slip away from her.

"Arizona, does that happen often?" Callie asked. "You scared me."

"No," Arizona said. "Not often."

"…Okay."

"Callie?"

"Hmm?"

"Please don't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere."

 


	8. Chapter 8

_Well, let me tell you 'bout the way she looked_   
_The way she'd act_   
_And the color of her hair_   
_Her voice was soft and cool_   
_Her eyes were clear and bright_   
_But she's not there_

###

She was soft and slender under her touch and with each delicate stroke of her hand, Callie could see the heated skin before her lush with pleasure. It was strange the way in which the milky white of her skin would immediately become bruised with the graze of her teeth or flushed with the tantalizing trace of her lips. Under Callie's touch, she had not felt cold at all, rather, her body was emitting incredible heat and she would sweat profusely. Her breathy, choked moans almost became intolerable to Callie; it drove the woman crazy, hearing those sounds and whimpers that seemed all too delectable to her ears. It drove her to a kind of heightened excitement that she couldn't quite name. And the smell of her, the smell of her was intoxicating, Callie almost felt drunk. She was sure that she could do this forever, even with the burning of her muscles as she worked her hand inside of Arizona in a rhythmic motion. She was sure when she felt those cool fingertips claw into her back, scraping roughly, leaving trails in their hasty absence. Yes, she could do this forever.

"Callie," she breathed. "Callie…"

Callie loved when the blonde called out her name with such ecstasy. It was enthralling, it only intoxicated more, it gave her more reason to want, to want it all. "Callie," she gasped, as the owner of that name thrusted wildly. She pumped inside of her, feeling the wetness slip through her fingers as she only delved deeper into her. The inside of her was warm and soft and with each thrust, she only clenched tighter, pulling her in. Callie could explore her forever.

"What?" Callie husked into her ear, her movements increasing with such intensity that Arizona started to gasp wildly into her ear.

"I'm gonna come," she managed to say, though the words were breathed out in a quick exhale. "I'm gonna come," she said again, trying to steady her voice.

"Come," Callie coaxed, wrapping her free arm around the blonde's slender body in order to anchor her in place. "Come," she commanded.

And with that command, Arizona clenched tightly around Callie's fingers – gasping loudly into her ear. Her fingernails scraped down Callie's back, and the taller women was sure that Arizona had pierced her skin – she felt the burn of the marks as the cool air hit it. But it was fine, because it was incredibly sexy. She still pumped slowly into the blonde as she came down from her orgasm, now bringing her lips to her exposed neck, kissing and licking and biting. She could leave as many marks as she wanted to, she thought briefly. Arizona was hers to mark and only she could see it, only she could know. That thought would probably have been disheartening to Callie, but in this moment, nothing mattered but the trembling woman that laid beneath her.

She felt the ghost grow calm in her arms, so she gently pulled her fingers out of her, feeling the woman tremble once more at the loss.

"God, you are so sexy," Callie murmured, gently kissing her neck.

To this, Arizona laughed softly and ran her fingers through Callie's raven locks, content to just snuggle in the bed with her. Since Arizona's trance, they seemed to have become more intimate, more entangled with each other. Callie often found herself wanting Arizona at strange times, and if sensing it, the blonde appeared before her in an on-call room. The medical library had now become their lounging spot in which the two would giggle together and flip through countless journals.

However, the best moments were when Callie arrived home. She could talk as freely as she pleased (granted, Cristina's absence) with Arizona and could touch her as much as she wanted. She found herself introducing Arizona to a wide array of popular culture – and they would spend hours in front of the television or otherwise. And now, Callie had had the last few days off and even more ahead of her, and though she'd made plans especially to do some cleaning, she couldn't help but spend every moment next to Arizona, who was keen on keeping her company.

"Mmm, this is nice," Callie murmured, her head nestled on Arizona's shoulder. "I could fall asleep."

"If you fall asleep, I'd be very bored," Arizona declared, still tangling her fingers through Callie's lovely hair.

"You could wake me up," Callie started. "The way you always do."

Arizona giggled and gently brought her hand to Callie's chin so that she'd scoot up the bed to meet her eyes. She kissed her gently and brushed her nose against hers.

"Well, then I take it back," Arizona said. "Go to sleep right now," she ordered.

"Mmm, no thanks," Callie refused. "I have cleaning to do."

And as if suddenly remembering, she moved to get off the bed, only to have her arm pulled back down forcefully.

"No," Arizona refused, cuddling her body close to Callie's. "Stay with me."

" _Arizona_ ," Callie warned. "I _have_ to, I won't get another chance for a while."

"Noo," Arizona whined.

"I'll be done quick," Callie said. "Why don't you help me?"

"I hate cleaning," Arizona declared.

"Of course you do," Callie said, recalling the horrific last aisle in the medical library. The blonde only scowled at her, and wrapped her arms tighter around Callie's. While it was certainly always pleasurable to be physically close with Arizona, Callie was determined to get things done. And she suddenly had an idea.

Reaching her free arm towards her night stand, she grabbed her phone and opened the Youtube application, knowing that Arizona would at once become immersed by it. The blonde didn't quite understand the formatting of the website or searching utility, so Callie quickly showed her how to use it.

"I saw this already," Arizona murmured. "Yeah, it's cool."

"Yeah, but last time I only showed you the videos I wanted to see," Callie retorted. "Here, look. You can search for anything _you_ want."

"Really?" Arizona asked, suddenly intrigued.

"Yeah, look," Callie said. "Just type what you want into the search bar."

Arizona took the phone and typed in whatever she wanted to and was quickly startled with the results. The naked blonde sat up on the bed now and opened a video, already enamored. "Wow!" she exclaimed.

"The Zombies?" Callie asked. She recalled Arizona going through the songs on her phone, and she noticed that the ghost was particularly struck with that band. That, and a bunch of other music that sounded similar. She was happy to have introduced Arizona to such an array of things. She smiled as the blonde briefly nodded her head and then she stood up, pulling on a shirt and sweat pants.

"I'm gonna clean now," Callie said.

"Uh huh," Arizona murmured, clearly no longer attentive.

"Okay," Callie murmured, briefly thinking that maybe it had been a bad idea to show her how to use the app. She shrugged and walked out of her room, her eyes immediately falling on the number of dishes in the sink. She rolled her eyes. Cristina.

She looked over to the window and saw Cristina's suitcase still sitting on the same spot (it had been there for over two months now) along with a box of books settled on top. A number of bags were piled next to those and Callie rolled her eyes again, quickly walking over to the mess. She bent down with the intention to pick up all Cristina's bags and toss them into her room, but her elbow hit the box settled on the suitcase and it quickly fell over.

"Urgh, stupid Cristina," Callie groaned, as the books tumbled noisily onto the floor. "When is she going to get rid of this crap?" she grumbled, reaching to pick the books up. She fixed the cardboard box back neatly on the couch, internally appalled at Cristina's carelessness for stacking a box of books on a light-weight, easy-to-top-over suitcase.

Hearing the noise, Arizona poked her head outside of Callie's bedroom.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing, I just dropped some stuff."

"Do you need help?"

"No, I got it," Callie insisted, glancing at Arizona who stood at the doorway of her bedroom, her bright eyes glued to Callie's phone. She knew the blonde had absolutely no interest in assisting her. "You go back to whatever you're doing."

"Okay," Arizona said. "Youtube is so cool!" she then exclaimed, her eyes still locked on the mobile device. She quickly turned around and went back inside Callie's bedroom, to which the brunette simply rolled her eyes. Arizona's enjoyment of modern technology was cute, but now she just appeared to be as distracted as the normal child or teenager with access to a phone. At least she appreciated things for what they were, Callie thought briefly.

She turned her attention back to the books on the floor, picking them up quickly and tossing them back into the box. They were all black, sturdy leather-bound journals that resembled each other – probably bought in stockpile. Callie reached down to grab another one – its spine damaged from the fall. She grumbled to herself and checked the book for any other wear – flipping through the pages momentarily.

It was a simple gesture, a simple thing. Fixing a book that appeared to be damaged, because it wasn't hers. But now she felt great need for the journal. A single phrase had caught her eye.

_Fucking Arizona Robbins_

She read it again, speechless.

_Fucking Arizona Robbins_

She read it once more, her eyes now searching below that, searching for more, searching for every instance of that name.

_August 16th – Lunch Hour – 3:42 PM_

_Fucking Arizona Robbins_

_She caught us, that was not my plan. Richard wasn't as frantic as I was. Mainly because Robbins would not ruin him. She is not the type to ruin a friend like Richard._

The entry abruptly ended in the next sentence.

_I must go. 911._

Callie quickly flipped the page.

_August 17th – 7:54 PM  
_   
_Oh, what a stupid folly. I should have been more precise in the operation but I couldn't have done it – if only for Thatcher's yelling and Meredith's wails and Richard in the on-call room and Robbins walking in on us. Richard told Robbins... who I now call Arizona … but the problem is that Richard told Robbins and now I'm entirely distrustful but she didn't seem to care much. She's overly cheerful and it makes me want to vomit._

_I hate girls like her._

_The way she insists that she knows everything is certainly enraging at times._

_But she is going to be a promising surgeon. She does read medical journals often, much often than I do and I suppose that she is the biggest competition I've had to date._

_I often compete with her, it only enrages me to notice her complete disregard of my efforts. Perhaps I am looking for acknowledgement because all the Attendings seem to praise her much more than I. However, they all see that we are talented. They all see our specialties unfolding._

_Out of all of these incompetent imbeciles – Richard, Arizona, and myself have survived…_

Though Callie had become increasingly engaged in the new information on Arizona, she quickly realized that these journals were dated. They must have had a date, a year.

"Where's the year?" she asked herself, flipping through the pages, looking for some indication of a date. It seemed to Callie that Ellis Grey only recorded, at the top of every entry, the months and the days – yes, even the time, but not the year.

"Ugh!" Callie groaned.

"Year, year, year…" Callie murmured, flipping through the pages. She then flipped to the beginning of the notebook and saw the headline of the journal. It was a continuation – one of many in a series.

_Continuation Journal 4 – February 04 1973_

Callie read it again.

Arizona was alive in February of 1973. And according to the entry she had just read, she was most certainly alive on August 17th 1973.

She recalled the entry that she had read only moments ago. She flipped back to it now and her eyes landed on the name Richard.

Richard? Richard Webber.

He had known Arizona. When she was alive.

And then, Callie suddenly recalled her first day back at the hospital and Arizona's distant gaze as she watched Richard's departing figure. He was familiar to her. Though Arizona had passively made a comment about being intimidated by authoritative figures (and Callie was sure it was true in some regard), her real gaze had been one of familiarity. He was someone who had known her so long ago. He must have looked so different in Arizona's eyes, she thought.

And Ellis Grey. Arizona had actually known the legendary Ellis Grey. And not only that, but Ellis Grey was _intimidated_ by Arizona. She seemed to write so vigorously of her strange contempt for the blonde, they must have known each other intimately. Callie knew there was only one way to find out.

She looked up from the journal and back at the open door to her room. Arizona had not come out, she was busily engaged in whatever she'd been watching on Youtube. Callie would have time. She picked up the box and quickly tossed the rest of journals into them, then planting herself down on the couch. She opened the journal in her hands and skimmed the pages, looking for every instance, every mention of Arizona Robbins.

But the name seemed to be scarce. Months separated the mentioning of Arizona as Ellis wrote more and more about her affair with Richard, her fights with Thatcher and surgeries. Callie read the ones she could find with rousing impatience.

_December 27th – 1:34 AM_

_It's completely out of character to not even write about surgery in a single entry. I thought that perhaps I should because it is only in my best interest that I remember the days that have treated me both well and miserably._

_Richard will not leave Adele._

_I am more than willing to leave Thatcher and Meredith. And he knows. I know he knows, I can see it in his eyes, his distrust of me. I take it out on Meredith. I shouldn't. I shouldn't and even god damned Arizona told me that today._

_She brought Timothy along with her to Richard's party. Home for the holidays._

"Timothy?" Callie murmured.

_A righteous boy, he is. And quite the dynamic they share. But Arizona lectured me on how I should be a mother so I slapped her in the face. And of course, she'd slapped me back. Timothy pulled her away and Richard among others broke up the fight. I am quite sure she never liked me but only tolerated me for Richard. Though I must admit, we both retain mutual respect for each other. She is a skilled surgeon who teaches me countless developmental medical procedures._

_Speaking of which, I've practiced many of them and they seemed to have…_

The entry had quickly trailed off into a discussion about certain medical procedures, so Callie only skimmed before flipping the pages for more mentions of Arizona. She could not find many. It seemed Ellis was not favorable of her. Especially not after this entry. They had a falling out and Arizona was scarcely mentioned again.

Finished with the journal in her hand, Callie tossed it aside and reached for another inside the box. The beginning was dated March 05 1974. She skimmed through the pages and finally found another entry that mentioned Arizona.

_April 9th – 4:40 PM_

…

_Speaking of which, Robbins is different now. I admit, it is quite sad. She seems incredibly distracted. Even her surgeries have not been going well. I fail to write much of Richard lately because he is almost completely occupied with her change in attitude._

_It is sad. Where is my great and feisty rival who was known as Arizona Robbins?_

_Richard is afraid that she will destroy herself._

_I must say, I am too._

…

Callie let out a trembling sigh.

Destroy herself?

She skimmed the journal again, looking for that name, but was interrupted by a soft voice.

"Callie?" she heard. Her eyes shot up to Arizona, who looked at her inquiringly. She seemed worried. And she was still naked. Callie gulped as Arizona approached her, settling gently onto her lap. She brought the journal close to her chest, glad for the anonymity of black, leather-bound journals.

"I felt your state of panic," Arizona murmured. Callie suddenly felt incredibly hot as Arizona's bare thighs brushed against her own clothed ones. Even through the cloth, she could still feel the heat emitting from the touch of skin, however.

Callie shut the journal and set it aside on the couch, flinching as she suddenly felt Arizona reach into her shirt. She felt as Arizona gently grasped her breast. It seemed the woman had sensed her feelings, but she had something else in mind entirely.

"…Do you?" Callie whispered in a short, sensuous exhale.

"Your heart is racing," Arizona said, simply.

"I-is it?"

"And confusion," she added.

"What?"

"I feel confusion coming from you."

"Huh, I'm just reading Cristina's journals," Callie admitted, hoping that Arizona would quickly forget about her strange feelings.

"Why? Is it interesting?" the ghost inquired.

"It is," Callie declared, hoping that Arizona would not ask to read them alongside her.

"Now I feel fear emitting from you."

Callie briefly cursed Arizona's ability to sense her feelings. "…That's because it's so intense," Callie lied. Or moreso, half-lied. It _was_ intense. Because she'd been reading answers. Because she'd been getting a glimpse into Arizona's life. Snapshots, really. The information was so scarce, but nonetheless, she was thrown into another world – it was like a novel, a history she'd never known – a memoir from a woman she'd never met nor ever really cared to meet. She knew who Ellis Grey was, the woman was acclaimed in her field.

And she'd felt fear because Arizona was sitting on her lap. Naked and so close, and she felt her hot skin against her own and her cool fingertips delicately grazing over her heated skin – slowly, softly. The same Arizona that the journal was referencing. The Arizona that had, at one time, been alive.

She was afraid to tell her, to let her know that she was reading about _her_. Like her own history was some secret that couldn't be shared. Something so personal – though through the eyes of another, through the eyes of Ellis Grey.

She was afraid of Arizona knowing that she'd been reading about her past – glimpses of her past. Because there was a chance that Arizona would take that away from her.

"I'm fine. It's just an intense journal. Writings… and stuff," she murmured, distracted by the woman's curiosity – her closeness and the lips, the breath against her own – her forwardness, her warmth, her concern. It was unnerving not to speak. Not to ask.

"Your heart rate is-"

"You're naked, sitting on my lap and your hand on my boob, why do you think?" Callie asked.

"Oh," Arizona laughed. She leaned in now and kissed Callie softly and slowly and the latter allowed herself to be pulled into the sensations of Arizona's lips against her own. The kiss became deeper now and Callie felt Arizona's tongue in her mouth, she heard the woman on her lap moan deeply and she felt her tangle her fingers into her hair.

As she drew back to allow Callie oxygen, the latter realized that despite having a hot, naked and sexy Arizona Robbins on her lap, she really wanted to read the journals. Arizona began to kiss along her jaw and down to her neck, biting at the skin.

"Stop, stop," Callie gasped.

"I really…" she continued, feeling Arizona's tongue trace the pulse on her neck.

"…want to finish reading…" she said weakly, gently pushing the blonde's shoulders back. Arizona looked at her with wide eyes.

"Really?" Arizona asked disappointedly. "You're passing this up?"

"Don't make it sound like that," Callie murmured. "I _really_ need to catch up on reading and these journals are just the thing for that."

"I thought you were cleaning," Arizona said.

"Well, I changed my mind because my career comes first… and these journals are just the thing," Callie explained.

"Oh," Arizona said, still disappointed. "Can I see?"

Arizona's interest in medical journals had, for once, become a nuisance to Callie – though she adored the blonde unconditionally.

"No," she refused. "When I'm done you can."

"Seriously?" Arizona asked.

"Yes!" Callie exclaimed, growing impatient. "Go watch a movie."

"Where?" Arizona asked, pouting.

"Youtube."

"Well," she considered. "I _was_ watching this really interesting documentary," she said. And just like that, Arizona had vanished back into Callie's room. Callie let out a deep sigh, briefly rubbing her thighs together. She was aroused, but she was more interested in those journals than _anything_ else. She picked up the one beside her and flipped through it again.

_July 7th – 3:56 PM_

… _And Doctor Ford has been on Arizona's trail, lecturing her as such. She has been missing too many hours, distracted, mostly tired I suppose. Richard told me that she has been attending many of those hooligan parties, looking for some stupid friend of Timothy. If she does not shape up, she will be kicked out of the program._

_She is a fool._

_They could not kick her out, though. Ford is not so incompetent as to kick the most promising one (next to myself) out. I feel cheated. I am now at the top. I am at the top, but I did not earn it. Arizona is not fighting with all that she has. She is not._

_In any case, Richard has been…_

The entry trailed off again and Callie let out another sigh, picking up the other journals. Most were dated earlier and mostly spoke of Ellis' meeting of Richard, she finally found the one following the entry she had just read. August 16 1974.

_August 23rd – 9:32 PM_

… _By the way, Robbins is back. She's back with that disgusting glow of happiness that I find increasingly repulsive._

_Only for today, however, do I find that same glow of happiness to be enchanting. That happiness, that joy, that is Arizona Robbins._

_She is back._

_Let's see how she rivals me now._

Callie dug through the other journals again, but she could find nothing more. Most of them spoke of her earlier years in which she simply wrote about medicine and surgery. Then Richard. She began to record her personal life much later – around the time of meeting Richard. She scarcely mentioned Meredith. The hospital was her life, it seemed, and Arizona was important to her on only a level of rivalry. It was only when Ellis was not conquering Arizona in competition did she write about her. Callie tossed the last journal in the box and huffed a sigh. She looked over to the room where Arizona was watching a movie, wondering what it would be like to go in there and talk to her now.

Ellis recorded journals until the very end – until the loss of herself to Alzheimer's. There were more, there had to be more. Surely, they could have told Callie something.

Arizona seemed amazing, but the journals scarcely revealed anything of her personal life – only Ellis' thoughts on her. Arizona had a rough patch, it seemed. Destroying herself? Parties with hooligans?

Richard, Callie thought.

Richard Webber would know.

Callie thought she should probably move the box into Cristina's room since she intended on cleaning, but Cristina suddenly entered the apartment as if on cue, tossing her bag to the side.

"Hey!" Callie exclaimed. "I'm about to clean!"

"God, I'm so tired," Cristina declared, ignoring Callie's protests. "I've been up for like two days."

"Where are the other journals?" Callie suddenly asked.

Cristina looked over to her, suddenly alarmed. "Don't throw away my journals!" she exclaimed.

"I'm not, I read them," Callie said hurriedly. "Where are the others?"

"I don't have anymore, Meredith has them."

"How many?"

"Boxes of them, probably-" she started to say, but Callie rushed inside of her room. Cristina only shrugged and walked to her own, shutting the door with a _slam_.

Arizona looked up from the mobile device in her hands, watching as Callie dug through her drawers for some street clothes.

"You're going out?" Arizona asked.

"Yeah," Callie said. "Yeah," she repeated.

"What's the matter?" Arizona asked. "You seem frantic."

"I, uh," Callie started, not meeting Arizona's eyes. "I gotta see Webber… and Meredith."

"Why?" Arizona asked.

"I need to discuss some things for something," she rambled, noting, from a side view, Arizona arching an eyebrow.

"Some things for something?" Arizona asked. "What's wrong, Callie?"

Callie looked over to her, noting now, that Arizona had suddenly manifested her clothes. She was dressed in an instant.

"No, you stay here," Callie ordered.

"What?" Arizona asked, surprised. "Why?"

"I need to be alone," Callie said. "I need… thinking space. You make me nervous around Webber," she explained.

"Okay…" Arizona murmured, offering Callie's phone to her. The latter only shook her head, dismissing the offer. It wasn't of importance and she noted the questioning expression of Arizona's as she fled out of the bedroom.

###

Callie wasn't supposed to be at work, standing in front of Richard Webber's office with her hand trembling as she knocked on his door. But she was. The door was quickly opened by Webber, who seemed surprised to see her.

"Torres, what can I do for you?" Richard asked. "Isn't it your week off?"

"Yes," Callie said, briefly looking around the room. If Arizona had followed her, she would have certainly known. She could see Arizona even though she was dead. The ghost could disappear and retreat somewhere, but if she was in the presence of Callie, Callie could see her. She was relieved. "But I want to discuss something."

"Of course," Richard said, offering her the seat across from his desk. He sat down in his chair and Callie immediately set off with her questions, determined.

"Can you tell me about Arizona Robbins?"

"How do you know about Arizona Robbins?" he asked her, surprised.

"I read about her in Ellis Grey's journals," Callie told him.

"Oh god," Richard murmured, probably embarrassed at some of the details of their relationship that was likely recorded in the journals. Callie only skimmed through the parts that hadn't mentioned Arizona, having no interest in Richard's former affair.

"Can you tell me about Arizona?"

"I haven't heard that name…. in years," he said, leaning back in his chair. He stared up at a blank space just above Callie's head, seemingly lost in thought. "God, Arizona, huh?"

He seemed to remember something and laughed lightly, his eyes softening.

"Arizona was my best friend," he said simply.

Callie was surprised. She knew that Ellis' mentioning of Arizona's friendship with Richard was suggestive in that they were very close friends, but the thought that the notoriously serious, authoritative Richard Webber considered Arizona Robbins as his closest friend never crossed her mind. So she was surprised.

"Can you tell me about her?"

"Why do you want to know about Arizona?"

"She seemed like an incredibly promising surgeon," Callie said, and it was true – from Ellis' entries, it seemed entirely true.

"She _was_ ," Richard said. " _God_ , she was. If she hadn't died, well, she'd probably be sitting in this chair right now."

"Really?" Callie asked, surprised.

"Well, I think she was aiming for Paeds, but I wouldn't be surprised. If it was Arizona, she would do it. She dominated everything," he explained. "She was a control freak, she tried to do everything."

Callie sat there and listened intently to Richard, nodding her head for him to continue.

"But she also developed this careless attitude. She was self-destructive when it came to concerning herself with other people," he said. "Patients, anyway. Friends, people like that. She lectured me a lot for Ellis, for being insincere to Adele, but she never betrayed me. Not once," he explained. "She was incredibly loyal."

"She sounds amazing…" Callie murmured, Arizona's bright smile flashing in her head.

"She was. We were all interns together. We practically grew up together. I was young, she was young," he continued. "But then… she died."

Immediately, Callie saw Richard's expression change, his soft eyes seemed to quickly darken – his demeanor was at once, one of gloom. He was sad. She waited for a moment before asking, "When?"

"February 1977. I'll never forget the day I found out," he said. " _Never_. I was heartbroken."

He picked up one of the framed photos that sat in front of him on his desk and handed it to Callie.

Callie was surprised. Arizona had looked exactly the same. She was in a simple casual outfit – but she had the same strikingly blue eyes, the same bright, dimpled smile and florescent blonde hair. Richard, in contrast, looked far different than how he looked now. He was far younger in the picture – he had a full head of hair and his face lacked any scruff. Callie stared at the picture momentarily before looking back at him.

"How did she die, Chief?"

He frowned and sighed. "Car crash. Arizona never wore a seatbelt," he said. "Not once."

"We found her car first, it was wrecked," he murmured. "Then we found her body."

Callie flinched in her seat, briefly recalling her own accident. She was grateful that her seatbelt absorbed _some_ impact before ripping.

"It's hard to adapt when a friend like Arizona dies," he said. "She-" he started to say, but was interrupted by the beeping of his pager. He looked at it and glanced at Callie, who in turn, cursed the timing. "I'm sorry, Torres."

"It's fine," Callie said, and the two rushed out of the room.

###

Callie noted the absence of Meredith Grey's name on the surgical board – aware that she had gone home for the day. It was still early. Callie could still catch her. She thought that maybe she should have taken her phone with her, but she didn't want to take away Arizona's only distraction from her.

And yet, the blonde stood in front of her, eyeing her intently. She jumped briefly, startled by the ghost's sudden and unexpected appearance and Arizona opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Derek who suddenly walked over to the surgical board, intending to update it.

"Torres," he said. "What's the matter?"

"No-nothing," Callie murmured, shifting her glance from Arizona to Derek. "I'm about to head to your place, actually," she said, quickly glancing over to Arizona who now seemed to be upset. "Is Meredith home?"

"She is," he said. "Why?"

"The journals," she said.

"Oh," Derek laughed. "Is Cristina rubbing off on you?"

"I guess so," Callie said.

"Well," Derek said. "See you later, then."

Callie nodded and turned to go, taking the stairs rather than the elevator. She wanted to be in constant movement since the blonde was vigorously following her. And it was apparent that Callie had been acting strange. She could only wonder as to what Arizona was thinking.

"Where are you going?" Arizona asked.

"Stop _following_ me, go do something else," Callie groaned, not wanting to offend her, but intent on discovering her history. It was a strange thing. Incredibly so. She probably should have just told Arizona, but something made her decide against it. She wasn't sure what. She was afraid of her reaction.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Go away, Arizona," she said.

"But-"

"Go away!"

There was silence as Callie slowed her race down the stairs. She heard a meek "Okay," and looked behind her. But Arizona had listened to her. She was gone.

###

"Callie?" Meredith asked, surprised.

"Hi, Grey," Callie murmured. "Er, Meredith."

"What can I do for you?"

"I've been reading the journals your mom wrote, the ones Cristina had in our apartment," Callie hurriedly explained. "Can I see the rest?"

"Really?" Meredith asked in disbelief.

"There's something I really need to read," Callie said. "Please, Meredith."

"Okay…" she said, stepping aside to allow Callie inside the house. "But I hope you're not reading about Richard and-"

"I have no interest in that, believe me."

Meredith led Callie into the living room where she found many boxes scattered among the floor.

"All of these?" Callie gaped.

"No, those are my mom's other things," Meredith said. She led Callie to some boxes stacked on each other – Callie briefly recalled that Cristina once had those in the apartment. They seemed to be recently returned. "Some are here," Meredith said.

Callie quickly pried open a box, not even asking Meredith, who didn't seem to care much, anyway.

Callie flipped through the journals, nodding when Meredith would plop another one down for her. She looked at the dates labeled on the boxes, though – and disregarded everything after 1978. She read from 1978 and below, to see if Ellis had mentioned Arizona anymore. She was disappointed to find redundant information – mostly about how Ellis had done better than her – though Ellis also began to note her losses. She found an interesting entry in which they had slapped each other at a bar, the reason unaccounted for.

"So what's got you so interested?" she heard Meredith ask.

"This woman she sometimes writes about."

"Really?" Meredith asked. "Who?"

"Arizona Robbins," Callie said, already flipping through the journals. Meredith found it strange how frantic Callie seemed to be, but dismissed it upon hearing the name.

"Oh," Meredith said. "I remember her, she was nice."

Callie stopped what she had been doing and looked up to Meredith, entirely surprised.

"You knew her?"

"Vaguely… I was really young," Meredith explained. "She took care of me this one time my mom was in surgery. I was really young, but I'd never forget her because she gave me a really nice toy," Meredith laughed. "She died a little while after that, so I never really knew her."

"Wow," Callie murmured.

"Yeah," Meredith said, finding the last box of journals and plopping down next to Callie. "I remember growing up and hearing my mom mutter about her sometimes. Whenever she was angry or trying to figure something out, she would say something like 'I need to channel stupid Arizona Robbins,' or something like 'Arizona Robbins died for a reason.' It was sick, really, I guess she tried to make herself feel better when she hit a dead-end by talking nonsense about someone who already died. I guess it gave her an ego boost, she told me she was really competitive with Arizona one time when I went to see her. She said she was chosen and Arizona died and in a way, she had to bear the weight of two geniuses," Meredith explained. "It was all stupid, really."

Callie considered her words – it seemed that was the extent to which Meredith had known Arizona, only from her mother's mutterings about her. There was only one more journal in which Callie had found a detail of Arizona's life and that was the end of her life.

_February 18th_

_Arizona Robbins is dead. I am late to the news, but Arizona Robbins is dead. It shook me more than I would care to admit. I am guilty of crying._

_Why did she die? Why did she die?_

_You're weak, Robbins._

_You're fucking weak._

###

Callie sighed deeply, it was an intolerable day. It was exceptionally busy and informative just the same. She didn't expect to see Arizona this time – considering her behavior towards her earlier. She was sure the ghost would disappear for a while and come back when Callie's emotions were too much for her to ignore.

But to Callie's surprise, she found Arizona seated on her bed, patiently waiting for her. She had been peering at her phone, but her expression was incredibly serious. It was not an expression of anger – it was calm solemnity.

Arizona looked up at her as she shut the door behind her.

"I read the journals," Arizona said.

Callie wanted to ask how, to ask why – but she was sure she made it obvious. She asked Derek about the journals. Her strange behavior started because of the journals. So, of course, she read the journals.

"So you know," Callie said.

"I should be saying that. I should say that _you_ know," Arizona replied.

"You died in 1977."

"That's right."

"You were cheerful," Callie said. "'Disgustingly happy'" she said, quoting Ellis Grey.

Arizona chuckled. "I was."

"But you still are. You're calm and lax, though."

"Exceptionally," Arizona grinned.

"You slapped Ellis Grey."

"A few times, actually."

To this, they laughed. Callie went over to Arizona and sat next to her. The blonde looked into her eyes – she seemed sad.

"Ellis was pretty cruel, writing about me like that," Arizona said. "I didn't know she paid so much attention to me."

"She should have paid _more_ attention to you," Callie said.

"So you could read about it?"

"Yeah," Callie said. "I want to know more about you."

"Callie-"

"Like why you're here. Even though you died so long ago."

"I just-"

"Will you please just tell me?" Callie asked, deciding that this would be the last time. "Please. I want to know. I want to know everything about you."

Arizona sighed and nodded – she seemed to decide something and then looked back up at Callie with her determined, bright eyes.

"…Okay."

 _She's Not There_ by The Zombies

 


	9. Chapter 9

The rain pattered heavily on the grass beneath her feet, and with enough force, one could easily lodge their foot through the light layers, ripping it apart, creating in its stead a slush of mud – though it was really just soil, she supposed. But wasn't mud soil? Well, that, along with a mixture of other crap that she couldn't really remember at the moment. It was funny, she briefly thought, how the rain could mix with dirt and suddenly turn it into a disgusting force of nature. It would slush on your feet and leave stains in its wake. It was like snow, in a way. She hated snow, too.

And it was cold, anyway. But there was no snow in the graveyard. She heard the muttering of the facilitator as he bid farewell to the person in the coffin. Her knees still trembled, though she stood as stiff and straight as she could allow herself. The murmuring gasps and cries only made her grow increasingly tired. She was so tired. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder, then, and looked to the man who stood just beside her.

He nodded his head – she wasn't sure why, but he nodded his head, signifying something, gesturing at something and then she quickly realized that the coffin was being put into the grave. The pit. Whatever it was.

"May Timothy Robbins rest in peace, he was a brave soul," her father announced. "He fought for this country with pride and honor."

No one had expected rain so early in the day. Some people among the crowd held umbrellas, but most people had none. So everyone was relatively soaked, Arizona observed. Including herself. The air was cool and accompanied with the rain, it made her feel exceptionally cold. Freezing, almost. The tips of her fingers felt the worst, she could hardly feel them. They were frozen.

The coffin slowly made its descent into the pit now. She was always weak against the cold, she reflected. Her body would become immediately chilled and her fingers were always the most vulnerable, the fastest to freeze.

The coffin descended into the grave. She wasn't too close, she made sure to line up in the back, much to her parents' disapproval. But they did not spend much time bickering over it, for they seemed to have rightly understood her feelings.

But now she wasn't sure what to feel. She felt nothing, really. Emptiness. And a little bit angry. Funerals were always exhausting. She felt Richard clutch her shoulder harder and wondered if he thought that she would burst into tears. She wanted to laugh at the thought, but she knew it would strike others as odd. So she decided against it.

Soon, people made their way out of the graveyard. They had expressed their sentiments to her parents, to her as well, until she grew tired of it and walked along the concrete path that led her to the entrance of the graveyard. Her parents had not said a word to her. So entangled they were with her brother's death, they did not acknowledge her departure.

She reflected on the day before. Her mother must have certainly told her father.

" _Arizona," her mother lectured. "Please, not now."_

" _But I-"_

" _It's not the time for jokes."_

" _It's not a joke!" she retorted._

" _I don't," her mother started, arranging the plates on the table for the strange wake that was to take place in a few hours. "I don't care about that right now."_

" _Mom…"_

" _And your father doesn't need that, either."_

" _I just needed to tell you, I just needed to," she explained, but quickly faltered on her words. The letters resounded in her head. His letters, his words. "Tim supported me."_

" _Tim wouldn't support such nonsense."_

_She realized, then, that she hadn't control over anything. She could not fix anything. Tim was dead, she couldn't stop it. She couldn't expose to her parents something so personal to herself, they were completely dismissive. Liking women seemed to only be a joke to them. In the midst of Tim's death, nothing seemed to matter. Not even the fact that his body was not even there._

_Perhaps it was a foolish decision to reveal something so big at such a grim time._

" _Tim supported me," she had said. He really had. He was going to dance at her wedding. But what did it matter now? Tim was dead, she couldn't stop it. She had no control over anything._

_Not the funeral service, not his death, not declaring her sexuality, not anything._

The rain was settling now. She heard hasty footsteps behind her, knowing that Richard would follow behind her.

"Arizona!" she heard.

She turned around and took a look at him, briefly grinning at his worried expression. He slowed down as she stopped.

"Are you leaving already?" he asked her.

"I was," she said.

"I was worried, you seemed…" he said, but his words quickly trailed off to nothing. He hadn't known what to say.

"What a way to begin the year," Arizona declared. "Isn't it funny? He was here only a few months ago for the holidays."

"Arizona…"

"You want a drink?" she suddenly asked. She did not wait for a reply before adding, "I could go for a drink."

"You probably shouldn't, Arizona," he said. "Let me drive you home."

"I'm going to my parents' house."

"Then I'll drive you there," he said. "You came with your dad's car, right?"

"I did," she affirmed. "Oh, and donuts," she suddenly said.

"What?"

"Let's get donuts. I wanna get some donuts," she continued. "Lots of them, actually."

"Arizona-"

"Vodka and donuts, that sounds good!" she exclaimed.

"That sounds disgusting."

She laughed at his declaration and ran her fingers through her soaked hair. She should have brought an umbrella. Her clothes were soaked just as well. She looked at Richard – his poofy hair seemed unfazed by the rain, though his clothes were drenched.

"We should get changed, though," she said.

"You… really wanna drink?" he asked. "Now?"

"Now," she laughed. "But drive me home first, I need to change."

"Alright. Me too."

"You should stick to seltzer, though," Arizona told him.

"I'll be fine."

"Richard, you drink too much."

"If you're gonna drink, then I'm going to, too."

###

He had promptly driven her back to her apartment and dropped her off, telling her that he'd pick her up later, after he had gotten changed himself. She peeled off the wet clothes from her body and threw them into her laundry basket, then taking a quick shower.

Now she sat on her bed, dressed in a casual outfit, waiting for Richard and fumbling her thumbs together. Her apartment bore no resemblance to her own room back at her parents' house and she was a little grateful for that. In contrast to her homely pink walls, her bedroom apartment was simply a decaying crème color that she always intended to have repainted.

She stared blankly at the wall for a while, keeping her thoughts on the ugly color. She contemplated on when she'd paint them, wanting a color… something bright and vivid. Richard had once suggested painting them blue, much like her bright eyes, as her presence against the bright walls would make a striking polaroid photo. Tim was there that time, agreeing with Richard and insisting that he and Arizona would look picture perfect in a photo like that. They had planned on it.

Another plan they'd made. Another thing they intended to do when he got back.

Like coming out.

She was supposed to, she thought, looking over to the box of letters that sat on the nightstand next to her bed. She was supposed to come out as he got back. That was another plan.

It should have been, she thought. She reached out now, wanting to open the box, wanting to read his words, but she was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Richard had arrived.

###

They'd been sitting at the table of the desolate bar, solemnly drinking at noon. The bartender briefly raised an eyebrow, he was familiar to their presence, however, he had recently heard of Tim's death, as well – accordingly providing them with sympathy drinks, much to Arizona's dismay.

So they'd just been sipping at their drinks quietly at the table in the corner of the room, now and then having small talk. Richard briefly brought up the nurse that Arizona had been eyeing for a while, noticing their flirtatious behavior months before. She only murmured a comment or two, not particularly interested in her at all. She'd never really been in love. And with Tim's death, nothing seemed to matter.

So they sat, in silence.

"What's in there, you think," she suddenly inquired, before taking a sip of her drink.

"Huh?" Richard asked.

"The coffin," she said. "What's in there, a flag?"

"I don't-"

"A flag, probably," she continued. "He was blown to bits."

"Arizona."

"They gave us a fucking flag, didn't they?" she said, her voice only raised slightly. "So why not put a flag in the fucking coffin too?"

"Arizona, please calm down."

"My dad is such a fucking jackass," she said.

"Stop it," he said. "Please."

She calmed down a little now, and fell silent again as she watched Richard uncomfortably fold his hands together on the table. He was trying to be supportive, but he wasn't sure how to comfort her, she realized.

"Didn't you want me to talk about it?" Arizona asked. "So I'm talking about it."

"I thought you were gonna-" he started.

"Cry?" she cut him off. "I will… I have, but the funeral was just stupid," she said.

"The funeral was stupid," she repeated, her voice low now. It was finality. That's why it was stupid, she thought.

"Didn't even have a body… just pride, because my dad is _so_ proud," she muttered. "So god damn proud that Tim got blown to bits just when they all were coming home."

"Your father was proud because Tim was a good man," Richard said. "And he wanted to honor him, even…" he faltered. "Even without a body. Everyone deserves that, Arizona."

She considered his words for a moment and laughed before taking another sip of her drink. "He _was_ a good man," she said. Richard smiled slightly at her comment and she grinned back at him, suddenly appreciating his presence. He was a wonderful friend. "Are you gonna honor me when _I_ die?"

"Of course," Richard grinned. "I thought you stood proudly at the funeral. You were strong, even with that rain messing everything up."

"The storm did wonders for the atmosphere," Arizona joked. "And anyway, if Tim's a good man, then so am I," she continued.

"A good man?"

"A good man," she said. "In the rain."

"That sounds awkward," Richard said.

"In a storm, then," she corrected.

"A good man in a storm?"

"A good man in a storm," she affirmed. "And I hate funerals."

"I know you do," he said. "It would be strange to hear someone say they _liked_ them."

"True that," Arizona laughed.

###

After the drinks had worn off, they had promptly gone to the café around the corner and stuffed themselves with as much donuts as they could. The mixture of alcohol and donuts had left Richard feeling nauseated and he insisted that he should go home. So Arizona packed the rest to go and let Richard drop her home.

She hadn't intended to go home so early – she went home to her apartment instead of her parents' house, not wanting to face them, not wanting at all to see the faces of the people at the funeral – people who probably lingered after the service. She didn't want to see those sad faces staring at her with pity. As though she'd suddenly lost everything.

She sat on her bed now, and nibbled at the donut in her hand, again staring at the ugly crème colored wall in front of her. Her gaze again drifted back to the box of letters, and she decided to open them up this time. To hear his words resound in her head.

She picked only a few, carefully reading them – careful not to stain the paper with her smeared fingertips.

_Dear Zona,_

_I let what you said sink in a little more and I know you've been upset with me leaving and not having said a word to you but I thought about it and I really let it sink in, Z. And it's great and I hope you tell our folks because god damn you deserve to be happy. You're gonna make a rad surgeon you know, studying all that crap though I never had the mind for it. And I know I gave you shit for being such a bookworm, but it makes sense. You're amazing, sis._

_Anyway I let what you said sink in and I think it's great._

_I guess that means you're gonna marry a chick, yeah? I mean I think that's against the law but fuck the law, the law is what got me drafted so fuck the law. I'm gonna dance so hard at your wedding._

_Please write back._

_Love, Tim_

_PS: Don't tell them til I get back for real cus I wanna be there when you say it and I wanna see dad's face and I'll be there by your side if you need me._

_And I know you need me, Z._

_I need you to write back because I can't stand it here._

_Extra love, Tim_

She picked up another letter.

_Dear Zona,_

_It's been a while, I know. I'm still alive and safe but the last few weeks have been hell and I don't want to write about it so I'm not going to. Nick is the only thing that's keeping me alive in this war. Nick, you remember Nick, yeah? My highschool bud though I guess we didn't hang that much. Not with all that commotion. Cus I did hate him. And ya know why? Well this is gonna shock you some bits but remember Cathy? Yeah you do, hah. Zona, I loved her but Nick got the girl. I know you adored Cathy yourself, you guys always hung out together, that's probably how I fell for her cus I knew her through you. I mean that's probably obvious but Im feeling hella nostalgic out here and this is the only way I know how to survive. Nostalgia's all I got right now. And the thought of you and the folks. And Nick. But I didn't know she knew Nick and anyway when she met him she said she couldn't be with me anymore and I knew you were upset, Zona, I was too. So you cut her off cus you loved your bro so much more, but looking at this war, Ive let go of those feelings. Nick is a great guy, I can see why she fell for him. He keeps the troops alive and he keeps me alive even though he does it while hyped up on all that shit he buys from the villagers. I tried it before and it hit me pretty bad, I don't think I would ever wanna go fight with that crap in my system. But Nick, he's a god send despite all that and I guess that's the only way he knows how to survive. Just like how writing to you helps me survive. And anyway him and Cathy's got such a cute kid, you should see the photographs._

_He's the only thing that keeps me alive here and now._

_And of course you, Z._

_Always you._

_Love, Tim_

Nick, she thought. Nick, she had not met him.

She stared at the letter for a while, trying to forgive the young man in her head. Nick. Nick, the cause of her brother's death. Nick.

She picked another letter. This one had a few photos of a small child next to his gleeful young parents attached to it with a paperclip.

_Dear Z,_

_Did you see the photos? Isn't his kid the cutest?_

_He's told me so much about his son and I can't help but feel attached to him. Nick said I could be his uncle, or even his godfather! Isn't that crazy? It's a lil weird considering I dated his wife and all, but I wouldn't mind. I want kids._

_Are you gonna have kids? You should, Z. You could adopt a kid or something or even more with these medical advances, y'know. I'd make a great uncle. But I'm not askin you to have a kid just so I could become an uncle, though that might be the best gift ever I think._

_I said it before and I'll say it again: Nick is the only thing keeping me alive out here. I can't stand Vietnam. I can't stand this place and I wanna go home. Nick does drugs a lot, I don't really know where he gets em and even when we go home for the holidays all he just is douse himself in that shit. It hurts a lil bit because I feel for his family._

_Cathy and him have been havin a lot of arguments, that's what Nick tells me. So I tell him it's probably cus of the drugs but then he gets real upset, so I try not to stick my nose where it doesn't belong._

_But he's got a family, you know?_

_Im gonna cover for him if he needs it. Im gonna do that cus he's saved my life countless times, you wouldn't believe it._

_How have you been, Zona? You're gonna make a great doc. I heard about your accomplishments from the folks. You're doin damn good._

_I gotta go._

_Much love,_

She let out a trembling sigh and took another look at the photographs Tim attached. They were a picturesque family, she thought. She tossed the rest of the letters on the floor, suddenly enraged. And her eyes fell to the last one. The last one that Tim sent to her.

_Dear Arizona,_

_It's been a long time. I'm sorry. It's been crazy. I've been takin over Nick's positions in infantry, yeah, I got a promotion but it really aint no promotion. It's insane. You probably heard that we're comin home. They been sending troops home in a constant flow and we're apparently one of the last batches to be sent back._

_Nick's arm got blown off. That's why I'm in his spot. It was a land mine._

_They're giving it up… they're giving it up and letting us come home and Nick's arm got blown off. Now I'm taking over his position, we're trying one more thing. I'm gonna be a replacement for him and we're gonna try one more strategy. There's still hope._

_I know he was pumped on something when he was out there, when he got his arm blown off. I know he wasn't himself because just before he was giggling like a moron and it set me off a little bit. Then his arm got blown off._

_I don't mind doin this though. Nick's gonna recover, they're sending him home in a few days._

_And I'll be home in a few months._

_I can't wait._

_I can't wait to start my life again._

_Love,  
Tim_

The paper was suddenly stained by a drip of her own tears. Her eyes were suddenly blurry with tears, she couldn't read anymore. She clutched the paper to her chest and cried, she couldn't hold it back anymore. She heard his words in her head, but they didn't seem to make sense, they didn't seem to connect.

He said he would come home.

But he never came home.

###

It hadn't been long. Maybe a week or two, but she was back at work. And she was used to the stares.

At first, she knew it was because of her brother's death that they all stared. They all had met Tim. They all liked Tim. And when she came back, she had been determined to be herself, to be her normal, cheerful, invigorating self. The person that jumped on all the opportunities available.

Like that nurse. But she didn't expect people to know. Though they'd left the on-call room, she didn't expect people to find out. She didn't expect to get the knowing reaction of everyone. People stared. The nurse couldn't handle the stares of being outted, she couldn't. So she left. Suddenly.

It was stupid, Arizona thought. She sat at her locker, reading over a chart – sick of everything, sick of the stares and knowing glances that her brother was dead and that she was a lesbian.

"Robbins," she heard behind her.

She hadn't looked up from the chart, and she was aware of the stern woman's presence behind her, but she just didn't feel like looking up from her chart.

"Robbins," she heard again. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

That strict command infuriated her suddenly, and she now looked at the woman standing behind her.

"What?" she asked, coldly.

Ellis Grey stood there – her expression changed for a moment, she was surprised at the tone of her voice – the iciness, because it seemed so out of character, but her demeanor quickly reverted back into that stern look she always held.

"I heard about Timothy. My condolences."

"Thanks," Arizona muttered, turning her attention back to her chart. She was aware that it was not Ellis' intention to express her apologies, so she waited for the woman to continue speaking – probably about a surgery or a journal. But much to her surprise, however, Ellis walked over and promptly sat down next to her.

"Um," Ellis started. But she was surprised to hear Arizona suddenly giggle. "What?" she asked.

"' _Um?'_ That's unlike you, Elly."

"It's Ellis," she corrected. "Grey, to you."

"I'll call you what I want, thanks," Arizona retorted.

"You will not," Ellis said.

"But I will!"

"Shut up and listen to me," Ellis said. "Did you read the journal I left in your locker?"

"No."

"Oh," she said. "Read it, then."

Arizona had expected her to depart after that, but Ellis still sat next to her, clearly uncomfortable in her presence. She wanted to say something else, clearly. She probably heard.

"What?" Arizona asked.

"Um, I heard some things," Ellis started. "About you."

"Get on with it," Arizona coaxed. "You heard about that nurse? That I slept with her?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Arizona said. "Go ahead and say what you want, I've heard it all around, one more comment from you won't hurt-"

"I think it's fine," Ellis said, interrupting her.

"Huh?"

"You are Arizona Robbins," she said, simply. "Nonsense from other people has never gotten to you. Sleeping with a woman doesn't change who you are. I expect you to act the same, and you will, won't you?"

"Of course I will."

"I expect you to."

"Stop expecting things of me," Arizona said. "It's weird."

"I think it's fine that you like women."

Arizona only laughed at her comment, but somehow, she felt relieved. She hadn't expected people to discover her sexuality immediately after her brother's death. She kept it hidden for so long, and aside from Richard, no one else knew. It was one slip she made, something to help her forget about her pain, just for a moment.

And now it was out.

"Thank you, Ellis."

Ellis cleared her throat. "Yes, well," she said. "Read that journal, there are things I wish to discuss with you."

"I will."

###

She'd been gaining momentum. The weeks went by and she suddenly felt stronger. The stares seemed to have faltered, especially when she stood next to Ellis. She'd notice people watching and then she'd see Ellis glare at them – a quick, icy death glare – and then they'd quickly avert their eyes, as if a prolonged glance would rouse Ellis' anger. It probably would.

And so she had felt better. She'd been doing just fine. She'd been doing perfectly fine until she noticed Ellis' chart – until she noticed Nick's name on it.

The same Nick. Scheduled to be discharged today.

As Ellis left, she hurried to his room with a kind of determination. A kind of anger. The chart had said he was there after being found on the streets – under the influence of some drug. She stormed into the room and saw him gathering his things together.

This was the man. He had jet black hair and a beard that was coming in ruggedly.

"You have a family to support," she said to his back.

He turned around, startled. Even moreso when he met her gaze – it seemed he knew who she was.

"You're…" he started. "Tim's sister."

"Yes," she said.

"Ari…zona, right?" he asked.

"You have a family to support."

"What?" he asked her.

"You heard me," she said. "Cut the crap."

He seemed alarmed – his expression was one of sadness and guilt – and yet, he also seemed incredibly terrified of her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Tim died because my arm got blown off."

His words did nothing for her.

"Quit the drugs," she said, coldly.

"You don't get it," he said. "It's not that easy."

"It _is_ easy," she retorted. "My brother would be alive if you didn't-"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry's not enough," she said. "Sorry won't bring him back."

"I-"

"You have a family to support."

He dismissed her as Ellis walked into the room.

"Robbins?" she asked.

"Remember that," Arizona said, her eyes still on Nick. "Remember that."

She quickly left the room in a hurry. That must have done it.

But she saw him the next week. And the next. Ellis complained, but he was always discharged. And soon, he'd stop coming.

But Arizona knew he wouldn't quit. And though she was angry, she always looked back to Tim's words. Nick was a good friend. Nick supported Tim.

Most of all, Tim wanted to save Nick.

She could do something. She could still do something. Nick was home, she could inquire. She could make it all better for him. She stood proudly at Tim's funeral. Because she was a good man in a storm. Loyal to her family. Loyal to Timothy. She could do something, she could save the friend that her brother adored so much. She couldn't save Tim, she couldn't. But there was some chance, some way.

She had no control over anything. But maybe she could salvage what was left of Tim's life.

###

Her eyes fluttered open as Callie shook at her shoulders. The dullness in the pink walls of her room seemed strange, because they had seemed so vivid in her dreams. Everything seemed vivid. She was almost startled to see Callie's worried face in front of her, startled to see the woman in her old room, a room she hadn't been inside of in over 30 years. It was bewildering.

"Are you alright?" Callie asked. "Did you have another trance?"

She nodded her head and gestured to the closet. Callie looked over at it and then back at Arizona.

"There's a box in there," she said. "With letters."

"Okay…" Callie said.

"I want you to take them," she said. "And let's go to the graveyard."

 


	10. Chapter 10

Callie was unsure of herself as she sat in Mark's borrowed car, driving to a destination that seemed entirely unremarkable. The scenery that flew by was only one of vacancy; signs of life seemed entirely scarce. Arizona had earlier explained the directions to her and it seemed odd to drive there, to some far, unknown destination without much explanation. Arizona seemed to be a woman of few words, Callie thought.

Now and then, Callie would lightly tap her fingertips against the steering wheel, as if attempting to prompt some sort of conversation, but the ghost next to her hadn't noticed nor had she said anything at all.

So they sat in silence, the only sound that made its way to their ears were the vibrations of the car reverberating through the space between them, accompanied with Callie's occasional tapping. She glanced over at Arizona siting in the passenger's seat, her bright eyes observing the flashing scenery with a kind of passivity. Her gaze was distant, she seemed to be lost in thought.

Callie looked back at the endless road in front of her – her foot pressing slightly on the acceleration pedal, wanting to go faster, wanting to know more. But Arizona had said nothing.

"What are you thinking?" she inquired, her own voice somehow startling her from the loud silence that seemed to overtake the atmosphere.

"Huh?" Arizona asked, looking over to her now.

Callie glanced at her again, and then turned her attention back to the road in front of her.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked again. She paused for a moment when Arizona did not respond and asked, "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"You'll see," Arizona said.

"I thought you were going to tell me about yourself."

"I am, Calliope," she started, "but it's not enough to just… explain. You have to see, too… I, I want you to see it all," she continued.

"See what?"

"My… home," she said.

"Your home?" Callie echoed, looking over to her again, observing her pained expression. She waited for Arizona to continue.

"I want to experience it, too," Arizona said, "my past. You know? I've been avoiding it, avoiding… remembering. But now I want to."

"Why now?" Callie asked her, her voice softer.

"Because of you," Arizona said, simply. "All of it is because of you."

Having said this, Arizona only watched her – her expression somehow unreadable to Callie. She wasn't sure how to respond, so she only said, "I'm sorry."

Arizona laughed softly, "Why?"

"For making you remember," Callie confessed. "For forcing you to tell me about yourself, since it seems…. painful to you."

"It's not a bad thing to remember," Arizona retorted. "It's more of a bad thing to run from what we don't want to face, you know?"

Callie only nodded and pressed her foot harder against the acceleration pad, prompting the car to go a little faster than before. Arizona simply smiled at her gesture, observing Callie's expression.

Callie wondered what Arizona had meant about running. Running from her past, she implied. Could it be so horrible? What had she done? It seemed to haunt her. Callie wondered if all ghosts were haunted by their pasts – she wondered if only the haunted ones haunted. But even ghosts seemed to dream. Ghosts recalled it all so vividly, she reflected. Maybe.

How could she be sure?

"Your trance, is it because of me?"

"What?"

"Your trance before," Callie continued, "the way you just… seemed to disappear from this world – that's what it felt like, what it seemed like. Is it because of me that that happened to you?"

"Partly," Arizona confessed, "but it's not as scary as it looks. Please don't worry, Callie. I'm happy for it," she said.

"It _is_ scary," Callie countered, "I don't think you can see yourself when you're like that, but god, you scared me."

"Sorry," Arizona said, gently laying her hand on Callie's thigh. She let her palm gently graze against the cloth, lightly running her fingertips over it. Callie's glance quickly fell to the soft hand on her thigh, as though surprised by its warmth, its gentleness, its reassuring touch – she was suddenly startled even by this woman's presence beside her.

"Will you tell me about your life?" Callie asked, "the way you lived… the way you died, will you tell me?"

"I will," Arizona affirmed, "I will tell you everything, Callie."

"Okay," Callie said, smiling only slightly.

She pressed the acceleration a little harder than before, wanting to get there faster now.

Arizona laughed, "You're eager."

"We're going to your house, right?" Callie asked. "I want to see it."

"It's old," Arizona said, "so is the woman that lives there."

"Someone lives there?"

"Yeah. I mean, I think she still does," she explained, "I haven't seen her in years, which is bad of me, but hey, I'm dead, right?" she joked.

"Who?" Callie asked, "Who lives there?"

"My mother," the ghost said, simply.

" _What_?" Callie asked, her foot suddenly lightening its weight against the acceleration petal.

To this, Arizona only laughed.

###

It wasn't too far away, it had only taken a few hours to reach their destination, a small town far east of Seattle. Callie maneuvered the car slowly through the narrow, paved streets while Arizona eagerly observed the surroundings.

"Wow," she said, "it's changed a lot!"

"Really? It looks outdated to me," Callie said, "The buildings are sorta old."

"Old?" Arizona asked, "Like 90's old? That's not old, Callie."

"No, not 90's. I don't know. Right," Callie said. "I forgot, you're supposed to be an old woman right now," she teased. "Like Webber."

"Rude," Arizona retorted before adding, "Richard's capable."

Callie edged the car around a corner and parked in front of a small café. She shut off the ignition. There were few people on the streets, walking around with bored expressions, as though they had nothing to do in the middle of the day.

"Richard," Callie said. "So you two were close?"

"Yes," Arizona said, "Why'd you stop here?"

"I want to admire the town you grew up in."

"I didn't grow up here."

"What?" Callie asked. "But you said this was your home."

"No, not this town," she corrected, "Not any town, really. I grew up all over the place. This was never my home, just a place I stayed in sometimes when my parents moved to Washington. When I say 'home,' I mean my parents' house. My old apartment is long gone. Renovated and everything."

"That's complicated."

"My dad was a marine. So we moved around a lot."

"Oh?" Callie asked, her eyes lighting up at the new information.

Arizona smiled and said, "Yeah, I was named after the battle ship, you know?"

"The battleship?"

"The U.S.S. Arizona."

"Oh," Callie said, "it's all making sense now."

"Yeah," Arizona affirmed, "Pearl Harbor."

"Okay," Callie replied, tapping her fingertips against the steering wheel again.

"What?" Arizona asked.

"What?"

"You seem antsy…"

"I don't know," Callie explained, "I guess I'm just absorbing the bits and pieces of information I'm getting about you and your life – trying to link them all together."

"Sorry," Arizona murmured, "I haven't written a memoir or anything."

Callie only laughed at her slightly sarcastic remark – it was playful, the way in which she had said it, and Callie did not expect to learn about her in one significant dose. A life story recounted verbally was not a linear tale, she thought – but when she thought about the woman beside her – the desire to know more was just incredibly overpowering at times.

She wished she could have heard about her day as it happened in Seattle Grace – as she spent mindless hours with Richard or infuriating Ellis. She wished she could have come to this town when Arizona was alive in the late 70's, meeting her parents and speaking with her mother.

"And your father?" she asked, "Where is he now?"

"He's dead. He died ten years after I did," Arizona said, "I only know because Richard went to his funeral."

"You didn't go?" Callie asked.

"I couldn't leave," she said, "I could never leave. Not 'til I met you."

"Oh," Callie said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"I won't then," Callie said. "Where to now?"

"My mother's house is a little outside of town, just keep going the way you were before," she said, "it's the small house just down the hill from the graveyard you'll pass by."

She stopped speaking for a moment and laughed, "Fitting, isn't it?"

###

Callie's hand seemed to tremble as she parked her car just in the driveway next to the small house. She shut the ignition off and leaned back in her seat, attempting to tap her fingers against the steering wheel again. Only, it had not been as controlled as before. She tapped again, and her fingers trembled, the sound came to resemble staccato taps – off rhythm, just as her own heart seemed to be. She knew Arizona noticed her discomfort both in her physical gestures and the feeling she emitted.

"What?" she inquired, her voice soft. "Are you nervous?"

"Very," Callie admitted.

"Don't be."

"I'll try not to," she said. And as an afterthought, she added, "it's creepy that your mother lives near a graveyard."

Arizona laughed, "It is, isn't it?"

"How old is she?" Callie asked.

"Old."

"Okay…"

They sat in silence for a moment while Callie took a deep breath. She unbuckled her seatbelt. Arizona looked over to her as she gripped the steering wheel again, almost in an attempt to still her hands.

"Be brave for me, Callie," Arizona suddenly said.

"I will," Callie said. She didn't know _why_ she felt so nervous.

"No, be brave for _me_."

"What do you mean?" she asked, taking her hands off of the steering wheel. Upon meeting Arizona's gaze, her trembling seemed to stop at once. The ghost seemed nervous.

"What do you mean?" Callie asked her again.

"I haven't seen her in years," Arizona sighed. "Not since I died."

Callie realized then that Arizona may have felt guilt, maybe sadness – she may have felt even more nervous than she had. It was her _mother_. A woman that Callie had no idea about – but nonetheless, it was Arizona's mother. She knew when she knocked on that door and greeted the old woman, something about Arizona and her own perspective of her would change.

Arizona could not embrace her mother. She could not say or do anything. Only watch.

How painful, Callie thought. She took Arizona's hand in her own and gently grazed it with her thumb.

"Let's go?" Callie asked.

"Okay."

###

"Can I help you?" the old woman asked politely, as she kept one hand steadily on the wooden door, intently observing the nervous woman standing before her. She seemed surprised at the visit, surprised at the company and the presence of Callie.

Callie observed her for a moment. She seemed frail and wrinkled – likely in her 80's, perhaps even approaching her 90's. She was a little hunched over – age had gotten the best of her spine, Callie thought. Her hair was completely gray, yet exceptionally kept, and her blue eyes shone as bright as ever. They were Arizona's eyes.

"Um," Callie started, "Hi, Mrs. Robbins. My name is Callie Torres, I'm an Orthopedic Surgeon at Seattle Grace Hospital."

"Has something happened to Richard?" Arizona's mother hurriedly asked with concern in her voice.

"No, ma'am, nothing has happened to the Chief," she reassured her. "I'm actually here about a surgeon I've heard stories about… um, Richard has told me about her, too."

Arizona's mother only waited for Callie to continue, slightly confused at her explanation. Callie felt Arizona's presence behind her – and she felt a kind of warmth, some sort of bravery to continue. She knew Arizona was probably observing her mother – seeing her again after so many years was probably nerve-wracking.

No more nervousness, Callie thought.

"Arizona Robbins," she said, pausing to observe Mrs. Robbins' reaction. Her eyesbrows arched up, she was surprised, but not entirely so, for the mentioning of Richard or Seattle Grace would always bring back memories of her daughter.

"Arizona?" her mother asked. "Why, she's been-"

"I know, ma'am," Callie said, her thoughts trailing off. What could she say? Surely not the truth. She wanted to know about Arizona's past, but why should her mother allow her to? She's been dead for years – who could believe Callie? So she chose to lie. The obvious choice. "I'm interested in continuing her research."

She heard Arizona chuckle behind her and murmur, _"Liar."_ But Arizona _was_ a researcher, Callie thought in defense.

"Her research?" Mrs. Robbins asked. "Arizona was not in Orthopedics."

"Everything is interdisciplinary," Callie retorted, "she's done some interesting pediatric orthopedic research that I would love to expand on… um, continue, you know? Her legacy. She had a forward way of thinking," she continued, fumbling with her words.

"I see," her mother said. She eyed her for another moment before opening the door wider, as to allow her to pass through. "Why don't you come in, dear," she said, "what was your name again?"

"Callie," she said, "Callie Torres."

"Come in, Callie," she said. "We can discuss this inside."

"Of course," she replied. "Thank you, Mrs. Robbins."

"Please, call me Barbara."

###

Callie had felt somewhat at ease upon entering the house, but she glanced quickly behind her to find Arizona the opposite – she was incredibly nervous and surprised, as if taking the surroundings in for the first time. She smiled quickly when meeting Callie's gaze and gently strode forward to grasp her hand.

"It looks the same," she said, "Almost."

Callie turned her attention back to Barbara, who was escorting her to a couch in the middle of the room. It was a homely place – the place where they stood was a small living room where one would find the usual sort of domestic utilities scattered about. There was a small coffee table centered in the room and a television set (rather old for its time) pushed to the side. There was a couch set surrounding the table and a number of rugs spread out on the floor.

"Come sit, Callie," Barbara told her, and so she nodded and sat down on the couch, looking around at the room. She watched as Arizona quickly made her way to a shelf where there were a number of framed photographs aligned side-by-side. Callie looked just above that to find family portraits (four, in total) aligned next to each other on the wall. She saw a black-and-white photo of a young soldier (presumably, Arizona's father) in a military uniform. Next to that was an equally aged portrait of a much younger Barbara Robbins.

Next to those two then came another young man (the portrait in color, this time) with bright blue eyes and a proud smile. He was also wearing a uniform. Callie guessed it was her brother. Arizona hadn't mentioned him. She wondered if he was around somewhere.

Next to those three, she then saw a portrait of a younger Arizona – maybe in her early or mid 20's, she thought – smiling brightly and all the same. Though it was a formal portrait, the blonde ghost was wearing scrubs designed for interns. Callie couldn't help but smile brightly at it.

"Oh, yes," Barbara said, following her gaze, "Arizona was very proud to be granted her internship. She refused to take the photo with anything else but those scrubs on."

Upon hearing this, Arizona turned to look at her mother – a little embarrassed, but happy nonetheless. She looked over to Callie and smiled shyly.

"It's perfect," Callie said, meeting her gaze, "She looks perfect."

Arizona's smile grew wider as she kept her gaze locked on Callie's. She turned around and looked at the photos once again. Then she said, "I'm going upstairs."

Callie was a little surprised at her remark – she had hoped Arizona would stay around – but then she thought it right for her to go, to look around at the house she hadn't been inside in so long. What could she do besides make faces at Callie while her mother told her about her? Callie couldn't respond to whatever remark Arizona would have made – so she only nodded and turned her attention to Barbara, who's gaze was still on the family portraits.

So she watched as Arizona turned the corner and went up the stairs.

"It's strange," Barbara suddenly said, "how those photos seem so old now."

"It's like looking into another world, isn't it?" Callie asked.

"Yes," she said, "Exactly."

"May I look?" Callie asked, noting the smaller framed photographs on the shelf.

"Of course."

At Barbara's approval, Callie stood up and walked over to the spot that Arizona had been standing moments ago. Her eyes quickly went over the photographs.

"Who's this?" Callie asked, picking up one of them. A young man stood next to Arizona – the same young man in one of the family portraits that hung just above the smaller ones on the shelves. In this photo, he had a huge grin on his face and was hunched over – carrying a younger Arizona on his back. She was making a peace sign with her free hand, the other arm wrapped around the boy's neck. The sun was beaming down on the both of them – illuminating their bright blonde hair and striking blue eyes.

"That's Timothy, my son," Barbara said. "He died in Vietnam."

"Oh," Callie said, a sudden realization hitting her. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Yes," she said, "It was years ago. I didn't think I'd lose my daughter a few years after losing my son."

"We don't expect these things to happen," Callie said, respectfully placing the photograph down and walking back to the couch.

"We don't expect to outlive our entire family," Barbara continued. Callie opened her mouth to respond, but she realized that she hadn't known what to say, so she quietly sat down, at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry," Barbara said, "did you want something to drink?"

"No, no," Callie murmured, "That's alright."

"Okay, let me know if you'd like anything…" she said. She paused for a moment before speaking again. "So, Arizona's research, then?"

"Um," Callie started, already feeling guilty of her lie, "It's really about getting a sense of who Arizona was as a person." She wished she didn't have to lie, but who would believe her if she'd told her that Arizona was still around? No one. She suddenly wished that Arizona had just told her, she wished that she just told her about her life – so she wouldn't have to be sitting awkwardly in front of her seemingly estranged mother – inside a house that even the ghost hadn't been inside of in so long.

Yet, still. She realized then, that Arizona wanted to make herself a reality. She seemed afraid, always afraid that she wasn't real enough to anyone, especially to Callie. Callie had the thought that Arizona was _proving_ to her that she had really existed.

Even if she had retreated upstairs. She was probably proving to herself that she had once existed, as well.

Callie knew then why Arizona had brought her here. It was proof from people who had known her. It wasn't just the words that came out of her mouth – it took much more perspective, Callie thought.

"Arizona was a wonderful daughter," Barbara said. "She always did what was asked of her. Most of the time," Barbara laughed.

"Most of the time?" Callie echoed.

"Well, we were always focused more on Timothy," she said, regretfully. "Arizona behaved in her own manner, doing what she wanted to do as a child and teenager – but she was very close with her brother. She studied hard to become a doctor, she was always in control of the direction she took in life," Barbara explained.

"I see…" Callie murmured. It certainly sounded like her.

"When she went off on her own," Barbara said, "she changed a bit. Maybe a lot."

"To medical school?" Callie asked.

"That, and her internship," she said, "being a doctor certainly changes you, I'm sure."

"It does," Callie agreed.

"She was interested in pediatrics, but Daniel wanted her to become a trauma surgeon. She ignored him, though. Timmy told her to do what she wanted. She never did reach a fellowship… and when Richard told us, I, I was absolutely torn."

Callie nodded and waited for her to continue.

"I feel like we lost Arizona before that, though," she suddenly said, "Before she died, I mean."

"You lost her?"

"Ah, yes," Barbara murmured, the tone in her voice changing. "She changed after Timothy died," she continued, "and I think a large part of that was our fault."

"Why?"

"Well," she sighed, "She became more guarded. She didn't talk to us as much. We didn't support her in the proper way… as a family would. Everything about Tim's death was so choreographed by Daniel… it was something I could handle, I was used to it, I was used to his ways. Everything was planned by him. Arizona had much of that planning in her own life, though she never noticed. But the funeral wasn't something Arizona could handle. She had her own things going on and we failed to support her," she continued, her voice almost choking. "She had her own things going on, too."

"Her own things?" Callie asked – she felt tense, but sad.

"She told us that she was gay," she said, simply. "Right when Timothy died. We brushed her off… Daniel had a hard time with it, I'm not sure how he ever felt about it. He grew silent after she died," she murmured. "Our relationship grew silent when both of our children died."

"And," she continued, "she never came home after Timothy died. Not once."

Barbara let the tears fall from her eyes as she continued, "The last time we saw her again after Tim's funeral was for _her own_ funeral."

"Oh…"

"Richard said she lost control then, in a lot of ways," she explained. "We only knew about her from what Richard told us."

"I am so sorry, Mrs. Robbins," Callie said.

"I told you," the old woman responded, wiping her tears away, "call me Barbara."

"I'm sorry, Barbara."

"Arizona was an amazing daughter," she said. "I couldn't have asked for a better daughter. She saved lives, that's the kind of amazing daughter I had."

"She is amazing."

"What has Richard told you about her?"

"Not much, I haven't had a chance to really speak to him."

There was suddenly a sharp knock at the door and Barbara stood up. Callie only nodded as Barbara went to the door and she stood up and walked over to the photographs on the shelf. She quietly examined them – they were all family photos. Photos of Daniel and Barbara's wedding – the former clad in military uniform. He was certainly a patriot, Callie thought. She looked around the room and noted the abundance of American flags and other signs of patriotism scattered among the walls. Callie never considered how strongly some people loved their country – but here was a family that certainly did.

She heard murmuring at the door and looked at the rest of the photos. They were all side-by-side – a timeline of a family, a life, almost in chronological order. She saw a photo of Timothy as a baby, and then Arizona. Then there were photos of the two, gradually growing up, celebrating holidays, graduating from schools, moving on with life. She noted the difference in atmosphere, the photos never took place in any set location – they really were always moving around. The last photo was just of Barbara and Daniel – older, now. And without children. Callie thought that that must have been the last photo – before Daniel died and after Tim and Arizona had.

Arizona had died, Callie thought again.

Oh, but how wonderful would it be to have known her? To share a life? Callie had a future. There was no future for Arizona, it seemed as though they never _would_ be.

Every moment she saw here was only of the past. Only the past. She felt a sharp pain in her chest and wondered if Arizona had felt it too.

"Dear," Barbara said, walking over to Callie, "I have an appointment right now."

"Oh," Callie said, "I'm sorry for just barging in. I'll leave now."

"It's alright," Barbara said. "Please take your time to explore the house. Arizona's room is just upstairs. We… renovated Tim's room, but Arizona's is there. Have a look."

"What, really?" Callie asked, startled by her invitation.

"Yes, go on."

"But you've just met me," Callie started to say, "And…"

"I get a certain feeling from you, that's all," Barbara told her. "I'm sure Arizona wouldn't mind. I'm sure she would have loved you. Please, go on."

"But," Callie started.

"The fact that you are so hesitant means that I can trust you," the old woman said. "You are a good person, Callie."

"Th, thank you," Callie murmured, almost embarrassed. This woman was so kind. Barbara smiled at her.

"Perhaps later I'll prepare some dinner," she said. "You'll stay, won't you?"

"If time allows it," Callie said.

Barbara smiled and gestured to the staircase and Callie suddenly had the sense that this old woman had changed – incredibly so. She was exceptionally kind, exceptionally trusting. Maybe losing her family had made her that way.

Callie turned around and made her way up the stairs – noting a door that was slightly ajar. Her eyes immediately fell on the pink of the walls – and she had the sense that this was Arizona's room. She made her way inside.

She saw Arizona there, lying on her bed and staring up on the ceiling. She then heard a door shut downstairs – indicating that Barbara had gone out of the house and into the backyard. Arizona grinned at her – almost smugly, Callie thought. Callie felt her intense gaze as she looked around the room, it felt like a teenager's room.

She walked over and sat on the bed, leaning over to brush blonde strands of hair away from the ghost's forehead.

"You didn't tell me I'd be interrogated at the door," Callie lectured, recalling that they should have planned to say something before just knocking on the door of the Robbins' residence. "I didn't have an excuse, what if I hadn't made that up? It's lucky that your mother's a sweet lady."

"That was a good call," Arizona grinned.

"I thought you were an extensive planner," Callie said.

"I am."

"Clearly not."

"But I am!" Arizona protested. "Things like this throw me off. I guess I didn't _think_ about it. I should have. I heard your conversation. Things came back, things I haven't thought about in years. Things I've never bothered to resolve in my mind."

"There was a lot."

"It had me thinking," Arizona said.

"She was sad," Callie explained, "Sad that she didn't accept you. Sad that she didn't reach out and support you. She regrets it all."

"I know," she said, "I was listening."

"Do you hate your mother?"

"Of course not…"

"But-"

"She made Dad and her sound cruel, even though they weren't. Not at all. The way she said it, the way she described how she and Dad felt and reacted" she explained. "But it's my fault too, for not coming home. It's partly just a big misunderstanding. I was just too obsessed with…" she said, her voice suddenly faltering.

"With what?"

"…With Tim's death," she said, almost drowsily.

"What happened?" Callie asked.

"He… died," she murmured, closing her eyes.

"Arizona?"

"I was just trying," she continued, but her words filtered out as she drifted out of consciousness.

"Arizona?" Callie asked. "Arizona!?"

She realized that Arizona was having another trance. She looked over at Arizona, she had stopped movement, she stopped breathing again. And again, Callie was startled. She shook at her shoulders, waiting for Arizona to come back out of it.

But she didn't seem to – it was longer this time. She kept shaking her shoulders. She looked around the room for something – anything, but what could pull her out of it. She saw a small record player in the corner of her room and absentmindedly moved over to it, as if it would pose some solution. There was just a single record that was neatly tucked away. The Zombies, Callie noticed. She wondered what she was doing. She hurried back over to Arizona and sat for a moment, just watching her.

She couldn't do anything. She shook her shoulder, gently this time – rousing her out of her trance. Or at least trying to.

She was about to give up, when suddenly, Arizona's eyes fluttered open.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "Did you have another trance?"

Arizona nodded and gestured to her shut closet. Callie turned around to look at it and then she looked back at Arizona, confused.

"There's a box in there," she said, "with letters."

"Okay…" Callie murmured, feeling uncertain.

"I want you to take them," she continued, "and let's go to the graveyard."

Callie nodded and pulled away as Arizona sat up, going over to her closet. She opened it and noticed the array of aged clothing neatly aligned together. She saw a pink box on top of a shelf.

"Is this it?" Callie asked, reaching for it.

"Yes…" Arizona murmured.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm alright," she reassured her, "I was remembering… my brother's death."

Callie took the box in her hands and sat on the bed again.

"Your brother?"

"Uh-huh… I think you'd understand a little more if you read those letters," she explained. "I became obsessed with his death. When memories come flooding back, I fall into these trances. It happens often because… because I'm remembering again."

"I'm sorry," Callie said.

"Stop, Callie," Arizona told her, "It's not a bad thing. I told you that it's not."

Callie reached out and gently grazed her cheek with her fingers. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Arizona smiled gently at her, and took Callie's hand, bringing it to her lips. She kissed it softly.

"I'm sure…"

###

"Going already?" Barbara asked, as Callie stepped out on the porch of the backyard.

"Just up the hill," Callie explained, "to the graveyard. I'll be back."

Barbara smiled and turned her attention back to the gardener – so this was her appointment, Callie thought briefly.

"Ugh, she's become one of those old ladies obsessed with their gardens," Arizona murmured in soft protest.

###

"Are you sure I can take these letters?" Callie asked, as she walked up the hill towards the graveyard. She had them neatly folded in her hand – her grip almost wrinkling the papers.

"It's fine," Arizona said, "Just put them back before you leave."

"When should I read them?"

"I guess now," she replied, as they reached the top of the hill. There were benches aligned just before the entrance – a strange occurrence to anyone's eyes. Who would want to relax in front of a graveyard? Yet, it seemed appropriate. So Callie read the letters in silence as Arizona sat next to her, gently leaning her head on her shoulder.

When Callie had finished them – she felt something like a lump in her throat. It almost hurt to read them – she felt that sharp pain in her chest again as strange waves of hurt went through her body.

She didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry, Arizona."

Arizona smiled softly at her and kissed her cheek. "Why be? I just wanted you to have a sense of who my brother was, too."

"He seemed like a good man."

Arizona laughed.

"What?"

"You reminded me of Richard for a second. He said that, too."

"He did seem like a good man."

Arizona stood up and reached her hand out to Callie. Callie took it and the ghost led her inside the graveyard.

"He was a good man," she said.

They walked a little while – and finally stopped in front of Tim's grave. Callie and Arizona both noted the grave before his – one that said _Daniel Robbins_. She heard Arizona whimper and watched as the ghost's shoulders shook for a moment.

"I feel bad," she said. "My parents' relationship completely fell apart after I died."

"That's not your fault," Callie said, holding her hand tighter.

"It partly is," she explained, "I should have went home."

"You were just trying to figure things out," Callie said, "With Nick. With Tim. It's not your fault, Arizona."

Arizona seemed to absorb her words, she nodded and smiled sadly at Callie. Then she walked over to a tombstone a few steps away from Tim's.

"Look here," she told Callie. And Callie looked.

Engraved on the tombstone was:

_In Memory Of..._

_Arizona Robbins_

_November 5th 1948 - February 16th 1977_

She really was dead.

"February 16th, 1977," Callie murmured. "The same day I crashed my car."

She thought it was strange – Arizona had died on the same day as her and in the same way. But Callie lived. Because of her seatbelt.

"You just did it several years later," Arizona said.

"And I didn't die."

"That's right."

"But you did," she continued. Arizona sighed and shrugged, looking over at her grave again. Her eyes fell on Tim's and Callie followed her gaze.

"I'm sorry about your brother."

"That's all right," she said. "It's over now."

They silently stood there – as if mourning all the deaths at once, though it had been so long ago. It felt refreshing, strangely – and Callie felt closer to Arizona than she had been before. Arizona seemed to be letting go, she thought.

"Why are you wearing navy scrubs then?" Callie asked, suddenly.

"Huh?"

"You died when you were a resident."

"Pediatrics was my dream."

"Ah, right," Callie said, suddenly realizing Arizona's gradual wardrobe alteration and recalling the heelys, "and so the vision of your future self manifested into your ghost form?"

"Right."

They stood for a while – not speaking, not saying anything really, just holding hands in silence and relishing in the closeness between them.

###

After they had returned to the house, Callie swiftly placed the letters back into the box and shut the doors to the closet.

"So," Callie said, "you were just a reckless driver?" she asked.

"I was reckless, sure," Arizona said, "according to other people. But I was a damned good driver, Callie."

"How do you feel now?" Callie asked her.

"I feel okay," she said, "Don't stay for dinner. There's something I need to show you."

###

"Thank you so much for everything, Mrs. Robbins."

"I told you, call me Barbara, Callie," she continued. "And it's not a problem. Please come by again, I'll cook up something nice."

Callie nodded, "Thank you."

Arizona stood and watched her mother intently – Callie hadn't an idea of what she was feeling. Regret, maybe. Barbara had felt guilty, yet so had Arizona. Callie suddenly embraced the old woman.

"Arizona loved you very much," she said. "So don't blame yourself."

Barbara trembled in her arms – and she heard Arizona sigh deeply, a trembling breath. She felt the old woman return her hug.

"Thank you, dear."

###

"That was sweet of you," Arizona said. "You said exactly what I was feeling."

Callie smiled, as she pushed her foot harder against the acceleration. She wanted to get back to Seattle – to find out more.

"You're so good, Callie," Arizona said, "So perfect."

Callie felt her heart leap – and she looked over at Arizona, who stared at her with soft, bright eyes.

"I wish I had met you before," she said, simply.

"Me too," Callie said.

They sat in silence and Callie suddenly felt the need to reach out and kiss Arizona, and sensing this, the ghost reached out and kissed her on the cheek.

"There was Nick," Arizona said, suddenly.

"Nick? Your brother's friend?"

"Yeah, I, I tried to save him," she explained, "I wanted to. I spent so much time in horrible bars, in illegal parties drowned out in loud music and drugs to look for him."

"What?" Callie asked.

"He was, ugh, he was the reason my brother died," she said. "I blamed him for that."

"Right.." Callie murmured, recalling the letters. She hadn't thought Nick was significant, but then she recalled Ellis' journal entries. So he was the reason for the change Ellis noted.

"But then I thought that because Tim loved him, I should save him. I wanted to because Tim would have wanted that. But I couldn't. I didn't. I tried to, but Richard talked me out of it. I couldn't search through those places anymore, so I stopped."

"And then what?"

"And then time moved on. And I saw him again, just once," she explained. "And then I died."

###

Callie sat in her car in a corner of a street near Seattle Grace hospital.

"This is the spot…" Callie started to say.

"Where you crashed," Arizona said, interrupting her. "This is also the spot where I died."

"You don't remember, Callie. You were injured, your head was bleeding, but I was in the ER when they brought you in. They mentioned your location, the _exact_ location, though I couldn't be completely sure," she explained.

"And it was crazy, I thought it was such a crazy coincidence and I had the thought that I didn't want another person to die in the same spot I had, so I came to see how hurt you were. And you were hurt pretty badly. And so I walked beside your gurney as they rolled you in and you saw me, you _saw_ me. And you reached out to me, thinking I was one of your doctors."

"I don't remember that," Callie admitted.

"I know you didn't. I thought it was because you were going to die, and I'm _so_ grateful you didn't. I watched your surgery, I watched your friends worry about you. And I was sure that you saw me – and I was so sure, even when they saved your life. But I had to be sure, so I stayed by your bedside."

"And then I saw you."

"And then you saw me," Arizona repeated.

"That sucks," Callie said. She watched as Arizona's expression fell and quickly corrected herself, "not me seeing you, not that."

"It sucks that we crashed in the same spot but you died and I lived," she continued, " _that_ sucks." She was ready to cry, she felt her eyes burning, she felt herself outraged at the injustice of life.

"It does," Arizona said, "but I'm happy you lived."

"I guess that explains why I see you," Callie said, "because I crashed here and you did, too."

"Right."

"What a crappy accident," Callie murmured.

"Accident, huh…" Arizona repeated, "I guess everyone thinks that."

"Wasn't it?"

"I guess so."

"Why do you _guess_ so?" Callie asked.

"Well," Arizona started, "I mean, it's just a hunch I had…"

"What?" Callie asked impatiently, "What?"

"I think I was murdered."

 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter ending inspired by Natsuo Kirino's _Real World_

" _Murdered?" she asked. "You were murdered?"_

" _It started when…" she started to say, but her words seemed, again, to falter. How could she tell her story? With fluidity? Without attachment? Callie wondered._

_The ghost stayed quiet for a while, and Callie shut the car's engine off. She took off her seatbelt and leaned back, watching as Arizona's eyes glazed over. Watching her distant expression, she was scared for a moment. So she took her hand._

_The blonde looked up at her, then. And she began to speak this time. As if letting go._

_###_

_January 1976_

He told her to let it go. And she had. For a long time, she felt she had. Her life was going well – everything seemed to be falling into place again. It was as though her life was a gradual puzzle that she was slowly piecing together. Sure, the puzzle had completely fallen apart not so recently. But now she was constructing it again – firmly, this time. That's what she thought.

Now when she thought of the prospect of her life "going well" – she thought only of her career. It was going in a marvelous direction. Not quite like Ellis', though she'd been working her way up again. She'd been retaining her position as top Resident again. Certainly, she'd given up the role of Chief Resident to Ellis due to her prior negligence, but she posed rivalry to her again, which made the stern woman exceptionally happy.

Yet, there were moments when she heard things that brought her back.

Of course, it was at the hospital. She hadn't a social life – nor a romantic life. She'd never fallen in love before. Crushes in high school, maybe – some, in college. She was too career driven to become susceptible to the charms of another woman. And she hadn't told anyone that she liked women, not back then. Not until she'd told Richard and Tim and her parents. Her only friend seemed to be Richard. And sometimes Ellis – when the woman felt like being more than her colleague, when she wanted to chat over a drink after work.

But there were moments, she thought. With the arrival of another overdose or recovering addict who'd taken a relapse, she'd hear things. Of course, it was not by chance. She deliberately went to them – she'd volunteer to take the case and to discuss, to talk with them. To understand why, where, and how.

Especially where. And so, with this, she'd been granted the knowledge of another party – another place where she might find him again. She rarely ever did find him, she thought. Maybe once or twice she'd find him in those parties she'd scouted – she'd find him among a crowd, or dancing under flashing lights, or sitting in the corner, tripping out. And when she'd approach him, he'd never recognize her. Ever.

Conversations were never fluid – she'd always get there too late. When his mind was gone. He couldn't hear the words she had to say. Sometimes he'd laugh when she told him to stop what he was doing – and then she'd feel danger looming around the corner – she'd feel suspicious eyes on her. What was a woman like her – a woman who was so against this, doing in a party like this?

So she'd retreat, she'd always retreat before she put herself in danger.

Now she'd found him again. And he'd been talking to her. Because for once, it seemed, he'd been okay to talk to her. He'd only been drinking, she noticed. She guessed she arrived earlier than anticipated, or maybe he arrived later than anticipated. Whatever it was, it was in good luck, she thought.

A chance.

So upon entering the dive bar, she saw him sitting there, next to his friends or whoever those people were, just drinking. Drinking, she thought – and he reeked of it, she discerned. She approached him, and gave her greetings. He was always meeting new people. This time wouldn't be any different.

His eyes were glazed over, he was drunk. He eyed her up and down before his gaze fell on her face. She watched him, watched as his pale eyes clouded – she watched him scratch at his ruggedly brown beard with his pinky finger. He seemed surprised for a moment – she thought it was the resemblance she had to her brother. She thought for a moment that he recognized her. But then he grinned at her – and put down his drink to signal at the strange, disheveled bartender for another, which the man promptly placed beside her. He grinned at her again, briefly showing his amputated arm and wiggling his eyesbrows, and then laughing aloud when she said nothing. He was clearly flirting. Or at least trying to.

He was a strange man, she thought.

"Thanks?" she laughed. "But I've got my own," she said, showing him the glass in her hand.

"Aw, what is that?" he protested. "Whiskey? That's not hard enough, you gotta try Johnny's concoction, man."

"I'm good," she told him, "I'll pass on experimenting with concoctions tonight."

"It's always good to experiment," he grinned, leaning closer to her.

"I'm sure it is," she said. "What have you done tonight?"

"Not much, just a few pops. I could let you have some, if you want."

"Sure," Arizona said, pausing as he quickly reached into his pocket, "But maybe later." She wasn't going to stick around longer than that, she thought.

He frowned momentarily before taking his hand out of his pocket. He quickly popped something into his mouth before speaking again. "You alone?" he inquired, taking a sip of his drink.

"No, with friends," she lied. She wasn't sure how to feel about him – she only had a loose impression of him from Tim's letters. But the photo of his family seemed to take its place in her mind – a young family. He was a father, she thought. A father sitting here on a weeknight, getting drunk and high.

Do they even know? She wondered. Do they?

"Where're your friends?" he asked.

"Somewhere around," she said, dismissing the inquiry. "So," she smiled, "tell me about yourself?"

He grinned, gesturing at his arm with a tilt of his head.

"I was in the war."

"Vietnam?" she asked. "That's rough."

She must have given a strange expression (the memories of that war only revolved around Tim and his death), for Nick started to quickly explain himself.

"People don't," he started to say, but coughed abruptly before speaking again. "People don't hate on me for it, not like you'd think, not the way you're thinkin' now," he tried to explain.

"Uh," Arizona murmured, uncertainly.

"Especially here. People here. They hate the war. And you're a pretty girl," he said. "Pretty girls always got this strange impression about me."

"Sounds like you have strange impressions of pretty girls," Arizona retorted. He only ignored her.

"My point is that I didn't wanna go. But I had to. We all had to," he explained. "So I was in the war and I lost my arm, but for a good cause."

"A good cause, huh," Arizona murmured, her anger flaring inside. A good cause? Her brother's death? His family's ruin? She wondered why he was suddenly explaining himself. She briefly thought that maybe her blue eyes and blonde hair _did_ remind him of Tim. A lapse of guilt?

"What do you do?" he asked her when she said nothing further.

"I'm uh," Arizona started. To say she was a doctor would be a silly thing. "A writer, I'm a writer."

"Yeaah?"

"Uh huh," she murmured. "What do you do?"

"I did a lot of mechanical stuff!" he told her, happily. "Lots'a mechanical tinkering!"

"That's so cool!" she exclaimed, faking excitement. How could this man have a day job? But then, he said _did_.

"It's hard with one arm, y'know!"

"What kind of mechanical stuff?"

"Like engineering, I'm an auto mechanic!"

"Groovy, I dig it!"

"Yeaaah!" he grinned, tipping his glass to her.

"So you're not a mechanic anymore?" she asked him.

"Nah," he said. He left it at that.

"What do you do now?" she asked.

"What I'm doin' now."

She looked to his arm – noting the ring still on his left hand.

She sipped her drink, and something made her say it. She didn't want to wait until he drowned himself further in his intoxication. "So you don't remember me, then?"

"Wha?" he asked. "I met you before?"

"What does Cathy say about all this?" she asked again.

Startled, he dropped his glass onto the table and pulled away, almost defensively. "Who the hell _are_ you?" he asked her, eyeing her intently. She said nothing, she only watched him. And then she watched as his eyes grew wide with realization.

"Arizona?" he asked.

"Nick," she started. "You need to stop."

"Will you stop fuckin' following me around!?" he exclaimed, pounding his hand on the table now. The loud conversations around them settled down as others turned their attention to the commotion between the two, there was suddenly light murmuring heard and the music flowed out.

"You… knew?"

"Of course," he scoffed. "People always told me afterwards… that you'd been there a few times – I don't remember cus I barely remember your face, but god, now I remember," he continued.

"You have a _family_ ," Arizona emphasized.

"I know that," he spat, "that's none of your fuckin' business."

"But it _is!_ " Arizona yelled.

"What business do you have in my life!?"

"Your life?" Arizona asked. "It was supposed to be my brother's life!"

Nick stopped for a moment, he seemed to calm down. His expression fell at once and he lowered his voice.

"Look," he said, "I'm sorry about your brother."

"Stop wasting your life," Arizona said. "Stop wasting the life he let you have. _Stop._ Tim wanted you to stop this lifestyle. You have a family. You're not doing anyone any good… I've seen patients like you, I see them all the time and-"

Before she could continue, she felt herself being pulled roughly backwards. She didn't have any time to react before she felt her back slamming hard against the wall. She felt the breath knocked out of her and tried to inhale, but was suddenly lifted by the collar of her shirt and pushed up and harder against the wall.

She gasped out and opened her eyes to see the disheveled, rugged bartender in front of her. Ready to hit her, it seemed.

"Johnny," she heard Nick say. "Quit it."

"I knew she was trouble," he said, grasping her collar tighter before pulling her back and shoving her against the wall again. "Doctors," he said.

"Ugh," she gasped out.

"Let her go, alright," he demanded. "She's gonna stop, she'll stop," he rambled. "Let her go, let her go."

The bartender listened and loosened his grip on her collar and she slid down the wall, trying to catch her breath. She coughed.

"She's gonna stop," he reasoned. "She won't follow me again."

"Next time she does, I'll kill her," the bartender spat. "We don't need fuckin' doctors here."

He bent down and pulled her up roughly by the arm. She pulled back defensively. The crowd had moved in – they were all glaring. She was like an intruder, a spy – though doctors weren't the law. People hated to be judged.

She looked at Nick – one more time, she took a long look at him. He only watched her with his sad eyes, nervously scratching at his beard. She said nothing and turned around to leave. Luckily, she thought, they all let her go.

And so she ran out, gasping for breath. Her eyes teared up. Let him waste his life, then. It was his life. Let him ruin it.

She was done.

###

_February 1977_

She sat on the steps leading to her apartment building, quickly fastening her skates as she prepared to leave for work.

"Morning Arizona," she heard behind her.

"Oh hey, Pam. Good morning!" she grinned, balancing herself as she stood up.

"Always a hasty one, you're really quick with those skates."

"Yeah, but it's such a pain to strap them on, I wish they were just part of my shoes or something," she groaned, picking up the canvas pack that sat on the step just below her. She swung it over her shoulder and bid a farewell to her neighbor, quickly gliding down the street.

She'd left her car parked at the hospital for the sole reason of skating to work in the morning. It was something she needed at least once a week. There was nothing more refreshing to her than skating in the brisk morning with her coat on.

The Seattle air was especially brisk – almost freezing. Her fingertips were cold and seemed to be frosting over. She briefly thought about buying gloves, but she didn't bother to stop. She needed the cold wind to breeze past her and wake her up accordingly.

Seattle was going to freeze tonight, there was a huge winter storm that was due to begin this afternoon. So she'd left her car there overnight to drive home later. She had it all planned out.

Upon reaching the hospital, she sat down before the entrance and unfastened her skates – grinning as she noticed Richard approaching her.

"Morning, Richard."

"You skated to work?" he asked, baffled. "In this weather?"

She only grinned at him, her dimples popping out. She slipped off her skates and put them into her bag, then pulling out a pair of canvas shoes as Richard plopped down next to her.

As she was lacing her shoes, Richard dug through her bag and found a pack of cigarettes.

"Hey!" she protested.

"You don't smoke. I need these."

"You don't smoke, either. Besides, those are _mine_."

"These are Tim's," he refuted, slipping a cigarette between his lips.

"They're Vietnamese, you know," she said, possessively taking the pack away from him and tossing it back into her bag. "So I'll never be able to get them again."

Richard only shrugged as he lit the cigarette and took a light puff. He coughed almost immediately.

"Hah, doesn't suit you."

"You either. I blame Ellis," he murmured.

"What did Elly do?" Arizona inquired.

"She's driving me crazy, that's what."

"Why?"

"She wants me to leave Adele."

"Are you going to?"

"Never."

"Then leave her," Arizona said, simply.

"No, I can't."

Arizona only rolled her eyes, and then stood up as she noticed Ellis coming from the parking lot.

"Okay," Arizona said, noting her glare from afar. "See you," she said, leaving the scowling woman to deal with her indecisive friend.

###

She sat there, quietly eating her lunch. She chose the Resident's lounge to relax, opting for the quietness of the room in contrast to the noise of the cafeteria. Suddenly, she heard scampering footsteps and looked at the door, watching as the knob slowly turned.

It turned and stopped, spinning back, as though the person had suddenly changed their mind about entering. It rumbled again and then turned – fully, this time. She noticed as the person struggled to open the door. A tiny girl entered the room, pushing the door back as far as she could manage. Noticing her struggle, Arizona walked over and let her inside, shutting the door behind her.

"Zo- _Na!_ " the little girl exclaimed, reaching her arms out to the woman.

"Hello, Meredith," she cooed, picking the child up and holding her to her chest. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Where's mommy?"

"Hiding," Meredith answered.

"Hiding?" she asked. "Mommy's hiding?"

"No, Zo-Na," she said. "Hide from mommy!" she corrected.

"You're hiding from mommy?"

"Ya!" Meredith exclaimed, burying her face into Arizona's neck. The child seemed strangely sad and Arizona briefly wondered if it had something to do with Ellis' attitude toward Richard. Perhaps she was taking it out on Meredith?

She walked back to her seat with the child in her arms and sat down.

"Are you hungry?"

Meredith looked down at her lunch platter and scowled, burying her head back into the woman's neck.

"Nuh uh."

"What did mommy do?"

"Mommy mad."

"Mad at you?"

She only shook her head and murmured, "Mommy scary."

Arizona knew how enraged Ellis would become when it came to matters regarding Richard. It was probably about Richard. She knew that Meredith hadn't understood Richard's presence around Ellis, but the child seemed to understand that it was an unspoken topic that greatly affected her mother's mood. She sighed, and hugged the child tighter.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said, rubbing her back.

"Mmm…" Meredith drowsily murmured as she started to fall asleep.

Arizona sat there for a while, attempting to feed herself from her lunch platter with her free arm while the child slept against her chest. She soon heard the door open again and found Ellis standing there with a scowl on her face.

"There she is," she grumbled, walking over to Arizona.

"She's sleeping," Arizona told her quietly as Ellis abruptly stopped and sat down in the chair across the table.

"Good," she groaned, and uncharacteristically put her head down on the table.

Arizona said nothing, only watched her curiously, while slowly finishing her lunch.

"Richard," Ellis started.

"I don't want to know," Arizona said, interrupting her from speaking any further. "I know you hate when I say this, but quit taking it out on Meredith. She doesn't deserve it."

"I know that," Ellis snarled, picking her head up. "I know that, it is not my intention to…" but she trailed off.

"It's not my place to tell you how to be a mother," Arizona murmured, rubbing the child's back again.

"Why won't Richard just leave her?"

"I don't know."

"You understand him."

"I can't tell you what he'll do, Ellis," Arizona replied. "But I know your daughter doesn't deserve your anger."

"I would leave Thatcher if…"

"No, no," Arizona said, hurriedly. "I don't want to hear it." She felt bad for a moment, observing as Ellis' face fell. The woman put her head back down on the table and it was suddenly quiet again. They just heard the soft breathing of the child curled against Arizona's chest. It was the only time Ellis wanted to really talk about her personal life, but she just didn't want to hear it, she thought.

Still, she couldn't help but feel bad. She liked to fix people.

"Cheer up, Elly," Arizona said, suddenly. "I'm sure it'll be…"

"You wouldn't know," the woman grumbled, though her arms muffled the sound.

She picked up her head again and looked seriously at Arizona.

"You've never been in love."

###

Outside, the snow began to fall. Arizona hadn't noticed the intensity of the snowfall until she glanced at patients and visitors coming in. She made her way to the pit and awaited the mass of cases sure to come in.

Just then, Richard approached her from behind.

"Shit," he said. "My car won't start."

"How long is the blizzard going to last?"

"Only tonight."

"Stay overnight, then."

"No," he said, "no way. I can't be trapped with Ellis right now. She wants to kill me."

"She does, but she also loves you."

"I love her too."

"I don't get you two."

"That's cause-"

"I've never been in love?" Arizona said, in an almost sarcastic tone.

"What?" Richard asked. "No, I wasn't gonna say that."

"Whatever. I'll give you a ride home and then I'll drive back to the hospital," she said, running to the doors as the first emergency came rolling in.

###

And that first emergency was Nick. Particularly, Nick escorting a friend. They had gotten into a car accident and his friend was gravely wounded. Arizona briefly noted that that same friend was the bartender that had thrown her against the wall just last year.

But he was still a patient. And she was not put on his surgical case.

No, instead, she was bandaging the minor wounds that the intoxicated Nick had from the accident. An intern's job, but she insisted. Much to his displeasure.

"I know what you're gonna say," he murmured, as she slowly wrapped a bandage around his wrist.

"Uh huh," she murmured back. "Still on it, I see."

"I'll always be on it," he spat, "None of your business, either. Leave me alone."

"I'm not trying to follow you, it's just my job to fix your wounds."

A large part of her had given up – yet, something about this man enraged her. Something made her insist on taking his cases when he came into this hospital. His recklessness. Sure, she shared the same recklessness when it came to driving or skating or other things, but it wasn't destructive to other people. Only to herself.

Yet, this man was always putting other people in danger. In the war. Her brother. After the war. His friend. Other people on the road, people who weren't intoxicated or under the influence. His family.

His family, she thought.

"I'm gonna wait 'til Johnny's okay," he said.

"Of course, Nick."

###

She had phoned Nick's family. His wounds were only minor, but she still informed his wife. She had to. And Cathy seemed to have known. The tone of her voice on the phone was exceptionally calm. The calm before the storm, Arizona thought.

Cathy came in, briefly noting Arizona, before heading towards her husband.

Initially, there was murmuring. It progressively turned into a loud, heated argument. And then cries. Cathy left him then, hurrying away. She seemed done.

Rushing away.

She was not the one that was crying.

Nick was.

And so Arizona went to him. To show him something, to communicate something. She liked to fix people. This should have been a lesson – she hadn't an idea of what they discussed, but then she saw his red, enraged face and backed away.

This time, it was he who grabbed her by the collar of her scrubs and threw her against the wall. She pushed him off quickly – he had power for a man with one arm. He kneed her hard in the stomach before slamming her against the wall again.

She yelled out and lost her breath, feeling the pain strike through her body.

"You _bitch_ ," he yelled. "I'm going to ruin your life the way you ruined mine."

As quickly as she had been struck, he'd been pulled away roughly – detained by Richard and then by security. He tried to get out of their grasp and go to her again – he was in tears and red in the face, his eyes blazing just at her.

"You ruined my family!" he yelled again. "She left me, she left me!"

"Calm down!" Richard barked, pulling him away.

Nick seemed to quickly note his loss. She only saw his eyes as she stood up – his striking, angry eyes. She had never seen eyes so angry before.

"Come on, now!" someone said, pulling him away. And then she remembered the bar, then she remembered her brother's love for him.

"Wait, wait!" Arizona yelled. "Let him go, he's under a lot of pressure."

"Doctor Robbins."

"Please, _please_."

###

It took much deliberation. Assault on a doctor was not something taken lightly. Especially by a notorious substance abuser. Yet somehow, it was managed. Somehow.

They found her ridiculous. They pitied her; they thought she was too lenient, too kind. They had told her to go home, but she insisted on sticking around the hospital. She didn't have to work on cases, she could spend her time reading journals. Going over charts.

But she did promise to drop Richard home. He refused, insisting that he'd stay with her, that they'd talk about it – or just read journals together. But she was shaken and insisted. She didn't want it to show. She left the hospital with Richard – both of them trudging through the piles of snow in the front of the parking lot. They quickly maneuvered around it and reached her car.

"Your stomach okay?" Richard inquired.

"Just fine."

They both got into the car.

"So, are we gonna talk about what happened?" Richard asked her, pulling his seatbelt on.

Arizona glanced at him for a moment – she briefly thought about it, but rather than starting a conversation, she instead started the ignition and flicked the radio on.

"Put your seatbelt on," Richard ordered.

"Nuh-uh," she refused, pulling the lever of her car and setting off to drive.

_Well, no one told me about her.  
The way she lied._

"Oh, I _love_ this song."

"Arizona-"

" _Well_ , _no one told me about her_ ," she sang along, ignoring Richard's protests.

"Arizona-"

" _How many people cried_."

"I'm just going to-" he started to say.

" _But it's too late to say you're sorry,"_ she sang.

" _How would I know, why should I care.."_

"I'm just going to talk over you!"

" _Please don't bother tryin' to find her…"_

Richard grew sick of her singing, she was clearly ignoring him – the way she drew each verse out, the way she was speeding – clearly that encounter earlier had completely thrown her off. He flicked off the radio.

"Stop speeding!" he yelled.

" _She's not there,"_ she sang, right when Richard shut it off.

"Hey!" she protested, slapping her palm against the steering wheel. "That was my jam."

"It's old."

" _You're_ old," she retorted.

"Good comeback," he scoffed.

"Screw off."

"Arizona."

"What?"

"That guy _hit_ you. But his words seemed to shake you more," he explained, concerned for his fellow colleague and friend. "What the hell did he say to you?"

"He said he was going to end my life the way I ended his."

"Just why…"

"That guy was Nick."

"What?" Richard asked, agape. " _What?_ "

"It's alright," she said. "It's cruel to have told him that he doesn't deserve his life. Tim didn't _give_ him his life…" she murmured. "It's just the way things turned out."

"The way he slammed you against the wall?" Richard asked. "That guy is fucked up."

"I think he'll get better now," Arizona said. "He's angry, but he'll get better now."

"Why do you think that?" he asked. "For god's sake, stop _speeding!_ "

"Because when you've lost everything, you realize that you need to change something about yourself."

###

"I heard there was a commotion," Ellis said, entering the Resident's lounge. In her arms was a sleeping Meredith. A rare sight for the cold-hearted Grey. "Bothering with that boy again?"

"It's fine now," Arizona told her.

"Where is Richard?"

"I dropped him home."

"Damn it, Robbins."

"Give it a rest," she said. "Go home, Elly."

"I am going," Ellis said, "I will take a few days off to reassess myself."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Arizona asked.

"What?" she asked. "To my house?"

"If you need the company," Arizona murmured, fumbling with her thumbs. She was nervous. Nick's words had left her incredibly nervous and she had no idea why, "Forget it."

"I am not attracted to you, Robbins," Ellis said, in attempt to joke.

Arizona only rolled her eyes and said, "Good night, Ellis."

"I will see you soon."

Ellis left. And Richard was gone. The hospital was quiet. She wasn't on any case for the night. That had been her last. She wondered where Nick had gone. They had let him go. So reluctantly, they let him go. And she was fine with it.

Maybe she'd go home, too.

###

So she drove through the storm. She'd parked in front of the hospital, and there were no cars parked in front of her, but for some reason, she felt incredibly wary.

It's like her feet were loose.

Everything about her car was faulty – but she was greatly aware of their faults. She was incredibly intimate with her car. She knew the degree to which her car was damaged, how far she could take it, how sharp she could hit the brake before a red light.

She knew its limitations and its capabilities. And she was comfortable with that.

Yet, tonight she hadn't felt comfortable. She turned the corner – a few streets away from Seattle Grace. The roads were slippery; too much, she thought. Her car had no heat, the frost was blinding.

And she was skidding. She was a fast driver, reckless – but damned good at being reckless. She managed her recklessness just fine.

So she took a sharp turn, knowing when she'd hit the brake. Knowing its limitations, knowing its capabilities. Letting the frustration go. Easing her nerves.

It was only a moment.

It shocked her to an extent that she couldn't quite understand.

Her feet pounded, they pounded at the brakes. And she was startled, bewildered – they were unresponsive. So loose did they feel under her foot. So loose. She looked down in that moment, that short-lived moment, she looked down – startled.

Suddenly furious, furious at her faulty brakes. She didn't look up again, but she felt the sensation. Her heart leaping with realization. Those words. The absence of a seatbelt. Those words. The impact. The sensation of flying. _"What kind of mechanical stuff?"_ A single crash. _"Like engineering, I'm an auto mechanic!"_ Those words. A single crash. A total fatality. Flying, she was flying. The glass flying, piercing, marking, cutting.

A single sensation took over as her eyes shut, as she felt herself die.

She was flying.

 


	12. Chapter 12

"The next time I opened my eyes, I realized that I was attending my own funeral," she said, indicating the conclusion of her story. She stopped now, allowing the finality of it all to take its toll. And she watched as Callie absorbed the intensity of her words – as if they were something that could be absorbed. As if words were simply heard and understood in a matter of moments. When Callie said nothing, she continued, "Maybe 'murdered' is too strong of a word, but-"

"It's not!" Callie suddenly exclaimed. She leaned back into her seat and covered her eyes with her hand. She let out a breath that trembled when released and brushed her hair back with her fingers. Then she looked at Arizona. "It's not," she said again, her voice low and softer this time.

She reached out and took Arizona's hand into her own, then lacing their fingers together. She suddenly felt as though she knew all she had to – she suddenly felt an understanding with her, an affinity.

And some kind of obligation.

"Why didn't they investigate?" she asked her, feeling as Arizona ran her thumb along her knuckles.

"There was no one else who knew," Arizona explained. "Richard knew that I was speeding all the time, and that I never wore a seatbelt." She frowned and narrowed her eyes, her gaze falling to the acceleration petal beneath the driver's seat. "But my brakes had never been so faulty before."

"So you think he killed you."

"I don't know, Callie," Arizona said. "It's a hunch, that's all. But it was years ago."

"A hunch?" Callie asked. "It's practically a give away."

"I don't know," Arizona said, simply. Callie knew that the ghost was waiting for her to speak again, but she could find no words to explain her bewilderment, her anger – and most of all, her sadness. So she simply clutched Arizona's hand tighter in her grasp and said nothing.

"After watching my own funeral, I fell into a trance and woke up in the hospital," she said. "Which became home."

"But it's alright now," Arizona continued, "because you know who I am now. Who I was."

"Right…" Callie murmured. "That's true."

"And I'm different now," she claimed. "That's all that matters."

"It's funny," Callie said, when she was sure that she was finished, "Even though you're dead, even though it's ended up in such a horrible way, somehow you still… are like a light in my life," she continued, softly laughing at the cheesy words that seemed to come from her lips. Something she'd never find herself saying normally to anyone. "You kind of… give me life, you know? Even though you're dead."

Arizona smiled and leaned in closer to Callie, her lips brushing against her cheek before kissing her softly.

"I'm happy I could do that for you," she murmured, almost in a whisper. Callie felt her soft, warm breath tickle her cheek and had the sudden urge to kiss her more. On the lips. So she did; she gently turned Arizona's head towards her face and claimed her lips in a soft, sensuous kiss. Arizona moaned just as softly against her, surprised by the sudden action.

"You do it to me too, Callie…" Arizona murmured, her breath coming short as Callie chased her lips.

"Hmm?"

"You give me life, too."

###

Arizona collapsed gently on top of her and she felt as loose blonde strands of hair fell upon her face, their smell a delicate pleasure to her nostrils. It was damp and sweet and simply perfect, she thought, as she felt the owner's lips kiss softly at her neck. The sensation of her lips seemed to be just as soft as her hair, and she couldn't help but want more, more of her. She slipped her hands around the blonde ghost's waist and lightly flipped her over, her own hair becoming a dark curtain shrouding over the ghost.

"Mmm," Arizona smiled, "I like this."

"What?" Callie asked, beaming back at her.

"You," she said. "On top."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Arizona smiled, wrapping her arms around the taller woman's neck and pulling her down towards her to steal more kisses. Callie found herself lost in the sensation, lost as she felt the blonde's tongue enter her mouth, enveloping her with feeling. This woman could make her constantly aroused, she could instantly warm her heart in a matter of seconds and she would let her do just as she pleased.

Yet, somehow it hadn't felt right. It hadn't felt fair. So despite the increasingly, deep and passionate kisses and the warm, soft breasts against her chest, Callie pulled away.

"Wait," she said, her voice husky and failing. "Wait," she said again, her voice clearer this time.

"Hmm?" Arizona murmured, pulling her face back to her.

"I want you to be okay."

Arizona seemed surprised at her remark, and smiled gently – and a little confusedly before kissing Callie on the nose. She grazed her nose against hers and peered into her eyes.

"I am," she said. "You know I want this."

"Not that," Callie corrected. "Not this."

"Then what, Calliope?" she asked, seemingly distracted from anything aside from the woman in front of her.

"You're not okay," Callie deduced, "about the way you died. You're not okay with it."

Arizona furrowed her brows, lightly pulling away from her, "I am."

"You're not."

"Callie."

"You're _not_ ," she said.

"Okay," Arizona said, letting go of Callie's neck and falling back on the bed. Callie leaned in almost reflexively, yearning for contact, but yearning even more for communication, for truthfulness. "I'm not."

"I'm not okay with it," she said again. Callie felt her chest tighten as she leaned over her lover – watching as her eyes glistened. She watched her fight back the tears.

"I just wanted to help, to help him," she said, her voice cracking. "I didn't think he would try to kill me," she whispered weakly. "I didn't think he would."

"Arizona…"

"I just liked to help people. To fix them," she explained. "I know it was a little wrong of me to want to that, to do that – as if people could be fixed so easily, you know? I was way too controlling, always in control, so I wanted to fix people and I wanted to fix him," she cried, the tears finally escaping her eyes. Callie turned and laid down next to her, pulling her into an embrace. "I just didn't think it would get me killed."

"It's not supposed to," Callie told her, rubbing her arm gently.

"But fine, I'm not okay with it," she admitted, pushing her head against Callie's chest. The brunette tangled her fingers into blonde hair, laying gentle kisses on her forehead. "But what am I supposed to do?"

Callie realized that she had not an answer.

It seemed to Callie that the ghost had felt it too, for she refrained from crying any further. Her whimpers subsided and she simply laid next to Callie, clutching at her shoulder, her fingers grazing over soft skin.

"Let's do something," Callie finally said.

"Do something?" Arizona asked, her voice raspy and low.

"Find him," she continued, "Let's find Nick."

Arizona pulled away and sat up, brushing her hair back before looking back at her. "Callie," she said. "It's…"

"Let me try."

"But…"

"We won't know if we don't try, Arizona," she said. "Trust me."

Callie took her hand in her own and kissed it, squeezing it softly.

"I will help you, just like you helped me," she said, "Okay?"

She watched as Arizona stared at the hand in her grasp – she seemed determined. She seemed to make up her mind.

"Okay."

###

"Okay," she said, tapping the tip of her pen against the notepad that laid on the kitchen counter. "So what do we have?"

"I don't know, Callie," Arizona said – for the tenth time, it seemed, "all I know is that he was a mechanic."

"That _really_ doesn't help us much," Callie grumbled, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. "Not even a last name?"

"None. Tim never mentioned that."

"But didn't you know his wife?"

"Cathy changed her last name after getting married. Our old highschool is long gone. Maybe you could still trace her somehow, though."

"So all we really have is a Nick that fought in the Vietnam War and lost his arm?"

"Right," Arizona affirmed. "We could go from there," she began, considering it for a moment, "but we'd need a lot more information. Going with war records could take forever. We'd need to get in contact with the right people."

Callie quickly deflated at the thought of how long it would take – but she was determined. Because one word had caught in her mind.

"Records…" Callie considered, "war records?"

"There are records, I'm sure," Arizona said, "I don't know much about it but…" she continued, but quickly stopped as she watched Callie's expression change.

"I'm getting a feeling from you," she said, "Realization?"

Callie frowned at the blonde's words, sighing before adopting a tone of severity. "Arizona, this empathetic connection with you is starting to ruin my surprises."

In no mood for bantering, Arizona lightly slapped her arm. "Get on with it!"

"Records!" Callie exclaimed. "Nick was a recurring patient at Seattle Grace when you were alive, right?"

"Yeah… oh!" Arizona realized, "medical records!"

"Exactly!" Callie grinned. "We just have to check the archives in the library."

"Those are in the back room. Which is locked," Arizona retorted.

"You're a ghost."

"Touche, Torres," the blonde grinned, "but I don't know where the specified records are. There are tons of them in the older archives. And it's under surveillance all of the time."

"So the old archives of medical records are heavily secured but not the general area of the library?" Callie scoffed in disbelief.

Arizona only shrugged.

"Ugh, dammit," Callie groaned, slapping the pen in her grasp onto the counter. Arizona fell silent and watched her.

"Richard would know."

"What?"

"I'm sure Richard would know where the records are."

"Among the entire history of medical records in Seattle Grace?" Callie asked. "He'd know some minor drug addict that hasn't crossed his mind in over 30 years?"

"No," Arizona said, "but he'll know."

"How will he know?"

"Because he knows where my medical file is," Arizona explained. "He knows the day I died. I know he does. I can feel it every time I'm mentioned. Richard can help. I know he can. I just don't know if he'll grant you access out of sheer interest."

"Well, Arizona," Callie said, reaching her hand out to her. "We won't know if we don't try, right?"

With a soft smile appearing on her face, she took Callie's outstretched hand. "Right."

###

"Torres," Richard acknowledged, as she walked through the door – the eagerness emitting from her determined demeanor. "I've been meaning to get back to you."

"About Arizona?" Callie inquired.

"Barbara called me," Richard said, "told me you visited claiming… interest in Arizona's research?"

"Ah, shit," Callie heard the blonde softly mutter behind her, feeling Arizona's frustration even as she moved further away.

"Yes, that was…"

"Arizona never did research," he interjected, "not the kind you were suggesting. No projects. Nothing emergent."

"Dammit, Richard."

"Sir…"

"Why are you so interested in her?"

"The journals, sir," Callie lied.

"I've read Ellis' journals," Richard said, "I'm not a fool, Torres. She died long ago. Whatever you're trying to dig up, leave it alone."

"No!" Callie exclaimed. "You don't get it."

" _I_ don't get it?" Richard asked, in shocking disbelief. "I knew Arizona better than anyone."

"Callie, stop," Arizona said, the fibers of her shared connection with Callie allowing her to feel the brunette's frustration brewing. "Calm down."

"You don't. Clearly not enough!" Callie yelled. "She wasn't…. it wasn't an accident," she said, her voice lower this time.

"What?"

"Callie, stop."

"What about Nick?" Callie asked. "Why didn't you look for Nick?"

"What?" Richard asked, speechless by her knowledge – by a name he would have never thought again significant to his life.

"The same night, Arizona died," she said. "After his threat. It didn't occur to you to look for Nick? Maybe he had something to do with it?"

"What are you talking about, Torres?" Richard asked, his voice raised.

"He was a mechanic!"

"Callie!" Arizona yelled in protest.

"…What?" Richard asked, slumping back on his chair. Some kind of realization seemed to kick in – he seemed shocked, bewildered. Arizona quit her protests and watched Richard – she was angry, Callie felt it though she continued to speak and reveal information. She now seemed to share a similar affinity as Arizona did to her – she could feel closely now, the blonde's emotions – the outer layer of feeling that she harbored. But it calmed now, as Callie observed Arizona, who in turn, watched Richard.

The information surrounding her death seemed utterly baffling – something that came out of virtually nowhere. How could anyone believe it? Callie knew that Arizona had been protesting from the beginning of their visit because everything was unlikely and Callie had no source for any such information aside from the dead Arizona. She couldn't reveal to anyone how she knew. They would only think her insane.

"So maybe he could have…" Callie continued, "maybe he could have altered her car."

"How would you know that?" Richard asked, baffled yet still receptive. "How do you know Nick?"

"Callie," Arizona murmured.

Callie only watched as Richard stared back at her – a large part of him suspicious. But she could not come up with an answer, she only silently watched him.

"I investigated with some major help," Callie said. "That's all."

Richard laughed slightly at her response, before covering his face with his hand. "Alright, Torres," he said. "Why do you care?" he asked. "Why does this matter to me now? Do you want me to repent for not noticing some crazy outward possibility?"

"Things just happen the way they do," Callie said. "I'm not asking you to feel bad or anything like that. I'm asking you to give me Nick's medical files. It's the same day Arizona died."

"But why?" Richard asked.

"I just need his last name."

"Torres," he interjected, "why do you care?"

Callie smiled and closed her eyes, feeling as Arizona loomed closer – the blonde seemed to be urgently searching for words, for some excuse for Callie to care. She'd definitely reproach her later, Callie thought.

"Because she's amazing and she deserves it," Callie said. "Isn't that enough?"

###

Callie's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles were undoubtedly pale and her hands seemed to hurt from the pressure of it all.

He had hoped that whatever she'd been doing, he hoped it was for a good cause. Perhaps acting on sheer confidence, Callie had insisted that she would do the rest on her own. He simply took her words to heart – his schedule far too busy for someone so long ago deceased.

But still.

"Callie."

"Dazio," Callie said. "Nick Dazio."

"Callie, you've been around the same block at least three times already," Arizona said. "He doesn't live there anymore."

Callie parked now, on the side of the street, and only turned to the blonde. She seemed more worried about Callie than anything else.

"I'm sorry, Arizona."

"We can still look him up."

"When his last known address gives us nothing?"

"We passed a mechanic shop on our way here."

"But you said he gave it up, didn't he?"

"Yes," Arizona affirmed. "But that shop has been there even when I was alive. Let's take our chances."

Callie let out a light laugh and ran her fingers along the blonde's arm. "Take our chances, huh?" she grinned. "I'm changing you, aren't I, Arizona?"

"You already have," Arizona replied. "More than you'll ever know."

###

"Oh!"

"What?" the man asked her, fumbling with the tools in his hands, using the back of his forearm to wipe away the glaze of sweat that had formed on his forehead.

But he quickly replied in turn, "Oh! Doctor Torres!"

Arizona seemed surprised, too. Because they both realized it. The young man that held the tools in his hand was the parent of the child who had seen Arizona before he died. Callie quickly kept her composure.

"I-I'm sorry," she murmured, suddenly remembering the man. She remembered the parents of young Jimmy Daleo. It wasn't long ago at all, but time seemed to have passed swiftly. The parents seemed to be returning to their normal routines. "Mister Daleo… uh," she said.

The man only grinned and pointed to her car. "You tried your best, Doctor Torres. I appreciate it. Please, now. You here for work, right?"

"Actually, I'm looking for someone," Callie corrected. "Someone who used to work here."

"He looks familiar," Arizona added to her, looking intently at the man standing before them.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Maybe I can help."

"Dazio," Callie said. "I'm looking for a Dazio. Does he work here still? Or do you know anyone that goes by that name?" she inquired, impatiently. She felt unnerved that she was so inquisitive to a man that had only lost his child recently.

"I'm your guy," he stopped for a moment while Callie surveyed him.

"Huh?"

"Uh, Dazio…" he murmured shyly, " _is_ my original last name, yeah."

"What?" Callie asked. "Nick?"

"Nick Dazio?" he asked. "You mean my dad?"

"Your _dad?_ " Arizona asked, as though he had said that to her.

"Y-yes," Callie asked. "Your father."

"Yeah," the man laughed, "my dad used to work here. But now he doesn't."

"Do you know where he is now?"

"Sure," he said, grabbing a towel that lay nearby him. "He did want to speak to the doctor that tried so hard to save little Jim…" he murmured.

"Ah," Callie said, "his grandson."

"Yeah. Dad's really busy. He didn't get to see Jimmy. He's always busy, Doc. He owns the branch. CEO."

"The branch?"

"Uh huh, _Seattle Autofixers_ ," he nodded, pointing up to the sign above them. "We're a branch. Dad owns the business."

"What!?" Arizona exclaimed.

"I-I see…" Callie murmured, quickly glancing over to Arizona. She felt from her, a whiplash of emotion – anger, fury – and somehow, relief.

"He's in town now," he said. "I can set up an appointment for you if you need it."

"Can it be today?" Callie asked, suddenly. She felt Arizona turn her gaze towards her, but only continued.

"Today?" the man asked. "Well, he's a busy guy."

"So am I, Mr Daleo."

The man only grinned and held up his index finger, then pulling out his phone and turning around. "Gimmie a sec."

As he walked off, Callie turned to Arizona. She was shaking now – vulnerable, yet furious.

"W-why…" Arizona murmured.

"He did," Callie whispered, "he turned his life around like you wanted."

"I didn't think that child was… was Nick's grandson…"

"Arizona…"

"Why is his last name different? Ask him that."

"Arizona, we're almost," Callie started to say.

"Please, Callie. I need to know."

"You're set up," the man said, coming back out of the shop. "Meet him at this address tonight," he continued, giving her the slip of paper.

"Thank you so much," Callie said, glancing over it before looking up at him again. "Daleo? Are you trying to avoid living up to lineage?" she asked, jokingly.

"Nothing like that," the man grinned. "My parents got divorced when I was just a kid. My mom remarried. And I didn't see my dad for ten years," he shrugged. "Not sure what really went down, but mom said that dad came back a new man. And I believe it."

###

"A new man," Arizona echoed, leaning back in the backseat of the car, where Callie sat next to her. She settled against the taller woman, almost protectively. "A new man, he said."

"Maybe…" Callie murmured. She felt Arizona calm in her arms and looked at her. "What?" she asked. "You're hesitating."

And she did. The blonde hesitated a moment before speaking again. She sighed softly and looked at Callie, almost pleadingly.

"We should leave it alone, Callie."

"What?"

"He's…. changed," she murmured. "That's all I wanted."

"Arizona, we've gotten this far…"

"Callie, please."

"He was such an asshole to you, he was awful!"

"People change!" Arizona yelled.

"If you want to give it up, then leave, Arizona," Callie said. "Leave, then. Run away again."

"Callie…" Arizona murmured, pulling away from her. But Callie only grabbed onto her arm.

"You're amazing, you know? You could have been amazing. Sure, he changed his life. But at what cost? What gave him the right to kill you? All it took was his family leaving him to change, but no! He had to take your life along with it!"

"But," Arizona whispered, weakly. "It's okay now."

"It's not okay."

"It is."

"No, it's not."

"You can't prove that it's not, Callie," Arizona cried – she seemed weak and timid, less angry than sad. She pulled closer to Callie despite trying to maintain an emotional proximity away from her. She didn't believe her own words.

"You _are_ the proof, Arizona…" Callie murmured. "He still gets his life!" she pulled her closer, now grabbing the ghost's face with her hands. "You don't get yours, you don't… get yours," she finished, tears betraying her words.

"Let's just finish this then, okay?" Arizona asked, wrapping her arms tightly around the taller woman. "And then, that's it."

"I want him to pay," Callie murmured.

"Callie," Arizona said. "There's only so much you can prove."

###

Callie felt as though ever nerve in her body was on fire – and not in a good way. But she knew she had to be strong, at least for Arizona. She felt the blonde's presence next to her and watched as she paced back and forth in the room, waiting for the door to open in the quiet café. Arizona looked to the door as another person walked in – but it was not Nick.

"Arizona," Callie called as softly as she could, "Come here." Callie turned her attention back to her iPhone, clicking at her settings before turning her attention to the blonde again.

"No, I can't," she said, "I-" she turned to the door as it opened again, and this time an older man appeared. Callie and Arizona both knew at once. The man caught Callie's gaze immediately, and nodded to her. He was of a thin build – shaved clean with a black suit and a red tie. His raven black hair was slicked backwards – he appeared exceptionally young for a man in his 60's. He reached a hand out to her as she stood up and she peered at his white gloved hands.

He frowned as she picked up her phone instead, murmuring a quiet _Sorry_ before clicking some settings and then placing it down and taking his hand in her own.

"Mister Dazio?" Callie asked, her heart thumping in her ears. She watched as Arizona watched him in disbelief, though hardly with contempt.

"Doctor Torres, I wanted to thank you for trying your best for my grandson," he said, taking a seat across from her. Arizona stared at him, coming closer – observing him, cautiously. As though he'd pounce at some given moment. Callie could sense no hatred – she could only sense incredibly sorrow. She couldn't tell whose it was.

She peered at her phone and nodded at Nick, "I'm sorry for your loss, Mister Dazio."

"It's alright," he said. "You are a sensible doctor. I looked up your credentials," he said, finally catching her gaze as she looked up in surprise.

Arizona scoffed and folded her arms, continuing to maintain her distance. "He's really changed, alright."

"I was close to him and shared everything, you know?" he murmured. "My faults, my guilt, my happiness… everything."

"Oh," Callie murmured, her eyes falling to his gloved hands. One hid his prosthetic arm, she deduced, looking at the shape of the hand as it appeared against the fabric of the gloves. Her mind was overflowing. She felt Arizona come closer to her, calling out her name. But she could hear nothing. It was as though all of the noises in the room combined into one discordant sound blearing into her ears. She could hear nothing this man was saying. She could feel the blonde next to her – she wanted to hold her in her arms, suddenly. But forever.

She wanted her forever.

He was saying something, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that this man murdered the woman that she was falling in love with.

"Did you tell him that you killed Arizona too?" she asked.

"Callie…" Arizona said, though she didn't seem surprised at all – she must have judged from the feelings Callie was emitting.

"I-I'm sorry?" he asked.

"I asked, Nick – did you tell Jimmy that you killed Arizona too?"

"I, uh, what is – " he asked, startled. He backed away in his chair, as if it could take him someplace else. But he did not stand up to leave. He was startled.

"You remember Arizona, don't you?"

His breath seemed to catch in his throat, Callie observed. He cleared it and then spoke.

"I remember Arizona," he said. "And I did tell my grandson about her."

"That you killed her?"

"That she was a wonderful person who helped me change my life!" he exclaimed.

Arizona only sighed – Callie could feel her desire to leave, but said nothing. She knew Arizona wouldn't leave.

"Wonderful prosthetic you've got there," Callie observed, unnerved, "bet it cost a fortune. It's a perfect fit."

Nick grabbed his arm protectively and rubbed his hand against it. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"I want to know why you killed her."

"I didn't kill her."

"You messed with her brakes."

Nick dropped his arm against the table and looked at her in surprise – he seemed almost scared for his life. "How do you know that?"

"Know what?"

"How do you know that I messed with her brakes?"

"I've done my research."

"I didn't mean-"

"She died because of you."

"I didn't mean for her to die…" he whispered, weakly. "I was just angry… I just wanted her to lose something like I did."

"She did!" Callie yelled, jumping up from her chair as it fell back. "She lost her life!" she growled, grabbing him by the collar.

"I didn't mean for her to die!" he said again, low so that only Callie could hear.

"Is there a problem here?" the barista asked, rushing over to the two. "Please, take it outside."

"No," Callie said, calming down as she watched Arizona's worried face. "Nothing's wrong."

"I really must go," Nick said, hurriedly – standing up and nodding to the barista. He quickly turned and rushed towards the door. Callie grabbed her phone from on top of the table and followed frantically behind.

"Callie," she heard, feeling Arizona pull her back. It was a drastic thing to do – for they were in public, and it seemed to Callie that Arizona would take the risk. "Callie, don't hit him," she said. "Don't get yourself in trouble, you can't prove anything."

"I can, Arizona," she murmured. She followed behind Nick and yelled to him. "Run, then!"

He only turned to her, watching as she held up her phone to him. "But I have the proof!" she yelled. "I recorded your confession!"

He rushed over to her now as she backed away. "Callie, Callie," Arizona said, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. Now she thought that Nick would attack Callie.

"I can take him," Callie murmured, pulling her arm out of her grip.

Nick only stopped in front of her – he seemed tired and worn out – as though all the years of his guilt had caught up to him. "You cannot legally use that against me," he said.

"Not legally," she said. "But I can ruin your family and your reputation and everything you've done to reinvent yourself. I can do that. I can make you a nobody again, or you can live up to your crime and go turn yourself in for the murder of Arizona Robbins."

"Good luck," he murmured, weakly.

"Aren't you tired, Nick?" Callie asked. "What are you trying to bury? You can't just take a life without living up to the reality that you did."

He only laughed and turned his back to her, "You sound like Jimmy. He said that too, said he saw her. I'm very tired, Doctor Torres," he muttered, walking away now, "very tired."

###

It was revealed later that the CEO of _Seattle Autofixers_ had changed and that Nicholas Dazio was on trial for the murder of Arizona Robbins. Nick had failed to ever mention Callie's name and somehow, no one had the desire to. She stirred memories of the woman to those that were to participate, but had nothing to do with it in actuality aside from serving as a catalyst.

It was quick, despite it all. They knew it would be over soon. Everything would be settled. Richard had informed her and thanked her – he could finally put to peace the one part of his history that plagued him for years.

The trial would last long – weeks, months, perhaps. But the result was clear to many: Nick would serve his time. And to Arizona, his admission was enough.

He was tired. She was too.

Callie felt her hot chest flush against her own, the blonde weak and tired in her arms. She wrapped her arms around her and kissed her softly, pulling back to watch Callie. Her eyes were so vivid and blue and loving. It made Callie happy.

But it couldn't stop the painful throbbing in her chest. She really did love this woman, she thought. And she knew Arizona could feel it.

"What, Callie?" she asked.

"I hate Nick."

"I know."

"He stole it," Callie murmured, pulling her closer, burying her face into her neck and wrapping her arms around her tightly. She felt herself trembling and felt as Arizona did, too. She felt her delicate hand on her back, rubbing softly, rubbing slowly.

"Stole what?" Arizona whispered. "What, Callie?"

"Stole you," she said. "The possibility of you."

"I'm right here."

"Will you stay with me?" Callie asked her, nuzzling her nose against the blonde's smooth neck. She lightly placed a trail of kisses against the soft skin, relishing in its scent.

"Yes, Calliope," Arizona answered.

"You will?"

"I'd stay with you forever if I could."

 


	13. Chapter 13

She smiles – a small one, slight, maybe even fabricated. She isn't sure herself, she isn't sure what that smile means or why she's showing it, but she does it anyway – because of the song. She is singing a tune that's been stuck in her head for the longest time. She thinks she can go faster with this melody in the background, with the tapping of her feet and the bobbing of her head.

It is an old tune – considered far outdated for the time now – but it is something she can never get tired of listening to. _Not ever_ , she thinks. And she believes it.

It's been long, she's not sure how long, really – but she knows she can't stop listening to it. Surgeons are allowed some say in the choice of music they play – in the type of OR they run. And this is the kind of OR she runs, she thinks.

Her OR.

"This _again_ , Torres?" he asks, incredulously. He's heard it so many times, he's sure that the effects of this tune on her has surely faded through time. But she's jamming all the same and he can't help but grin at her behavior – strange as it is – he finds it enamoring.

She only nods at him and so he accepts this habitual custom. He's become used to it, anyway. Everyone seems to have grown accustomed to it.

"You sure like the Zombies," someone says.

She stops, just for a moment, she stops. She thinks of her again and she shakes her head, as if to shrug the statement off.

"No," she says. "Just this song."

Standing just beside her, an intern listens to her reply and then shuffles his feet. He stretches his neck either which way before he timidly makes an inquiry. "What's this called again?"

She laughs and thinks, _Of course he doesn't know of it,_ of course he doesn't. He hesitates after she laughs, as if not used to the presence of the fierce, intimidating doctors surrounding him. He feels as though he's asked a stupid question. He's not going to last, she thinks for a moment.

He might not last, anyway. She doesn't know where he'll end up, or where he'll go from here when he exits the OR – feeling failure or accomplishment or whatever other feelings may haunt him. So she answers him. And while she does, her face comes to mind – the bright blue eyes, and the blonde hair, and the beautiful smile.

She answers him.

"She's Not There."

###

Arizona's trances had become more frequent. Callie had thought they would have vanished after Nick had gone to trial, after her death had been resolved. She should have been at peace, or so Callie had thought. But then she woke up to discover a naked Arizona peering at the ceiling, almost lifeless.

She had fallen into a trance the night before, after they had made love. Arizona grinned and fell next to Callie, seemingly fatigued – which was strange for the energetic ghost. She had seemed so tired to Callie, so Callie brought her closer to her, to embrace her in slumber. But Arizona had not responded. She was silent. Realizing that Arizona had fallen into a trance, she shook her once, and then twice – she shook her shoulder, but she did not respond so Callie lifted her body and grasped her cheeks and called out her name and shook her again until she finally responded.

And at once, she blinked – her eyes retaining their natural glow – she blinked and then smiled at Callie, wrapping her arms around her neck and thanking her in a soft whisper. And then she kissed her very softly and pulled her down on the bed and rested her head on her shoulder. And Callie had held her tight and listened to her soft breathing until she fell asleep.

But then Callie woke up to discover that Arizona had once again fallen into a trance. And this time, it bewildered Callie moreso than any other time.

Her discordant gaze did not suit her features, rather, they made her seem even more lifeless, exceedingly so. Her skin was strikingly white – not milky, as it often had appeared to be in every instance, but remarkably pale. She stared up at the ceiling almost resembling a corpse, not breathing, not blinking. Callie grew alarmed at this trance and quickly sat up on the bed, hovering over the woman.

But Arizona had not blinked, she had not moved. She was not there. Her eyes had told Callie so, for her eyes were the most striking. The most distant they had ever been, it seemed. They were a dim, hazy blue – dark, so dark that Callie almost mistook her eyes for a grey blotchy color – but she still saw that tint of blue. And to her, it was a small spectacle of hope.

"Arizona?" Callie called out. But Arizona did not respond.

"Arizona!?" Callie called again, grabbing at her shoulders this time, as if to rouse her out of her trance. It had worked the several times before, so she shook her, she shook her meticulously, but also with alarm. She was frantic.

"Arizona, Arizona!?" she cried.

But she could do nothing. Arizona just laid there. Defeated, Callie laid on the bed next to her and softly called her name, attempting to gently soothe her out of her trance.

"Arizona, please come back," she said, her voice soft.

"Please come back, won't you?" Callie pleaded. "Come back to me, please."

She ran her fingertips along the unresponsive blonde's shoulder, grazing her pale skin which seemed so cold to Callie. Arizona's skin was cold, just as her fingertips were. Just as her body was when she must have died, Callie thought.

But she couldn't die. She was already dead. Why wasn't she coming back?

"Arizona, do you remember when we first met?" Callie asked her.

"It felt so normal. So normal. You were the first thing I saw when I woke up. And it felt _so_ normal though we'd never met before," Callie explained, gently laughing to herself. "And I thought about it as I saw you more and more, as I woke up next to you, and I had the thought," she continued.

"I had the thought that maybe I wanted this for the rest of my life."

"And it was refreshing, Arizona. Having that thought was refreshing because it was you."

Callie moved in closer to her, she brought her body close despite the unresponsiveness of Arizona. She almost seemed like a corpse. Callie thought it a strange scene, a strange thing for someone else to witness. She had no idea what would happen, she had no idea, but she had hope that Arizona could hear her.

"And I think I'm falling in love with you."

She planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

"No, I probably am already in love with you."

"Come back…" Callie murmured, resting her head on Arizona's shoulder.

But she did not come back. Callie was unsure – she had fallen in love this time. Deeply, truly – she had never felt like she had right now. But she was not frantic. Arizona wasn't coming back to her.

She had submitted to something, and she wasn't quite sure of what that was. Perhaps it was this strange romance – this strange woman who was dead and yet had not a reason to reside on the Earth anymore. Callie submitted completely to her existence, she realized.

Bohemian lifestyle, she thought. Or bohemian lover, at least. She fell asleep next to the lifeless Arizona, clutching her tightly before her eyes fluttered shut. She wasn't sure of what she dreamt – or what she had felt whilst dreaming. All she knew is that her thoughts were of Arizona. Her heart was of Arizona. It was love, but painful love.

When she opened her eyes, she found Arizona turned on her side – watching her with an almost blank expression. Callie smiled softly at her and brought her hand to her cheek, grazing it softly.

"…You're back."

Arizona blinked twice before returning the smile.

"I'm back," she whispered softly.

"Do you remember what you dreamt about?" Callie asked her.

"Not at all," Arizona said dully. Her voice was monotonous – uninterested, almost tired.

"No?"

"No…" Arizona murmured. "Not this time… I don't know why…" she continued, her voice gradually getting lower with each word.

She closed her eyes this time, as if to fall asleep.

"Arizona?" Callie asked.

But Arizona suddenly opened her eyes and sat up. "I need to go."

"Go?" Callie asked, sitting up on the bed.

"I need to go," the ghost said again, pulling Callie up by the arm, "let's go."

"Go _where,_ Arizona?"

"Back. Back to the car crash," she murmured, unsettlingly. She seemed frantic. There was still something to resolve, Callie thought. She quickly sat up and started to slip on her clothes.

"I need to go," Arizona announced again.

"I heard you, wait a second."

Arizona sat as Callie dug through the closet for her clothes, briefly noting the heelys she had bought for her so long ago. Her heart was aching suddenly. She picked them up and showed them to Arizona – whose eyes only seemed to grow more dull. Yet when her eyes fell on the heelys, they lit up once more.

"Thank you, Callie."

"What?" Callie laughed.

"I love you," she said, softly – her blue eyes gleaming as she stared at the startled brunette.

"You do?"

"I do," she said. "I love you."

Callie smiled, her features softening as she placed the heelys back into the closet. She leaned into Arizona and kissed her.

"I love you too."

###

Callie followed Arizona as she trailed slowly on the sidewalk, slowing her steps. It was late at night now – her trance had lasted long and now they were here – at the same place the two had crashed so long ago. Strangeness had brought them here, and strangeness would indeed part them.

Callie only gazed at Arizona's back – her shoulders slouched slightly forward. She seemed to be in a daze – fatigued, tired – not quite like herself. She was trying, Callie thought.

"Arizona?" she called. The blonde turned to her now, as if suddenly realizing that she was there with her and smiled softly. It was a smile that always made Callie's heart flutter. It was a sad smile, but it was beautiful. It was her smile.

"You're leaving me, aren't you."

"I think so…" Arizona said. "I…" she started, turning to Callie and walked towards her. She stood in front of Callie now, "I don't feel like I'm here anymore… unless I look at you." She put her hands on Callie's arms. "If I don't look at you, I feel like I'm disappearing."

"Then keep looking at me!" Callie yelled. "Always look at me!"

"But I can't, Callie," she said. "You know that's not possible."

"It can be," Callie said, "we can make anything possible."

"You have a life, Callie. You need to live it. Mine is already gone."

"I want a life with _you_."

"Maybe in another life," Arizona said. Callie reached out to her, but Arizona stilled her hands – instead, moving to clasp Callie's cheeks in her hands. "Maybe in another time."

"Arizona…"

"I could learn to love you."

"Arizona, please."

"I'm sure. I'm sure of it," she said, confidently. "I'm sure I would learn to love you, like I did. Like I do now."

"Please…" Callie pleaded, taking hold of the hands that held her face. She brought those same hands to her lips and kissed them frantically – they were cold.

"You saved me, Callie," Arizona said. "Thank you."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," she said. And Callie closed her eyes, letting go of the blonde's hands. All she felt were soft lips against her own – the softest and warmest as they had ever been.

But Callie knew. She took a deep breath and smiled, unsure of what it really meant. What it all meant. Though she was sure of one thing. Arizona had given her life.

And Callie knew.

She let herself exhale, she finally allowed herself to breathe. The first time in a long time, she thought. It must have been.

Callie opened her eyes and she knew.

She wasn't there anymore.

 


End file.
